Poem Quotes

to the girl who once loved me,

you made me so happy, my god.
days seemed brighter with
you in them.
life felt like it was worth living.
flowers seemed more colorful,
days flew by like a breeze.
things were so good- until
they weren't.
i remember all the nights
i'd spend on the phone with
you, begging you not to leave.
"you deserve better than me,"
you'd repeat like a broken record.
i never believed it, until one day,
i did.
one sunny day in july
i decided i wouldn't let you 
ruin me anymore.
so i left, and i couldn't 
be happier.

-to the girl who destroyed me.
 
 






Under a sea of clouds I fight

for the wind, my  love, as she tumbles


 

.



















 
i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you




 

…and if I
never touch you, well then, we never die.
Listen, even lovers have still lives,
have whole months when they hang
together like moths on an unlit
light bulb, waiting for the bulb to light,
but if it never does then the moths
survive, meat should be allowed
to sit on the table forever
without being devoured by flies
and if that’s not possible, well
then we still have this picture,
the still life not of how it will be, but of how it was, for the knife and the meat
and the flies, and for us on the night we
hesitated together.
From now on, love,
we will always be about to destroy
each other, always about to touch.

—STILL LIFE: AN ARGUMENT | EDWARD HIRSCH

My audience is God,
because who the hell else could understand me?
Who else has been dead twice?





i hurt, therefore i am.


 

 
 






Angels will cry when it's raining

tears that are no longer clean


 

.





 It's not simple to say
That most days I don't recognize me 





 
 

 


we make love like we rehearse
we touch, but my fingers don't hit the cracks in your soul 
they reach out to touch the layers beyond the carnival rides and breakfasts
but, they cut.  you feel the sting of my knife
i gaze into the flowers of flesh and blood like i'm reading poetry
i realise, on the surface it seems i picked the wrong cover
mutilation
the first four words I write are my name
they say the scars of human emotion take the longest to heal.




 

.

    THE VOICES

IM NOT GOOD ENOUGH 
IM WORTHLESS  
IM A FAILURE
WHY AM I HERE???
IF I  DISAPPEARED..... WHO WOULD CARED ???
IM JUST A WASTE A SPACE....
THOSE ARE THE THINGS HEAR INSIDE MY HEAD 
I CANT TAKE IT SOMETIMES , MAYBE IF I WASNT HERE THINGS WOULD BE BETTER...... I HATE THIS FEELING, I HATE THINKING MAYBE MY HEAD IS RIGHT ....UGHHH SOMETHING I WISH I DIDNT HAVE TO THINK , I WISH I DIDNT HAVE TO FEEL , I WIS THINGS WAS DIFFERENT IN MY HEAD UGHHHHH I DONT KNOW WHAT TO DO 
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