Hopeless wanderer
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- Parts 24
Ongoing11m
Last published Thu, Mar 5, 2020
They asked me : do you write poetry or poems ?
I write what I feel, I don't know if that's a poetry or a poem, a quote or just a text.
I write what I feel and never regret for expressing my feelings and my pain.
I should be less sensitive and emotional that's what I've been thinking for these past days
Stop believing in people,
that's what You're gonna regret,
You know how much it hurts when they stab you on your back.
All Rights Reserved
#5
lovefamily
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You
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When There Was Me And You | Part 1
You were my First Love; toxic, unhealthy for my state. But i learned Love from you; you taught me what it meant to spend nights crying at the edge of my bed and how it felt to really smile. ************************* This is a collection of poetry for one series- love, pain, toxicity, heartbreak and memory. This is the first experience at love I had. I share with you my experiences, my thoughts, my recollections, my struggle and everything I felt. If you grew up having been deprived of love and then suddenly found yourself carrying what seems like the world's amount of love for someone else- I don't doubt you won't be able to relate, at one point in this poetry book you'll find yourself in me. ******* #1 in heartstrings/43 (6th september) #3 in nostalgia (20th march) #15 in poems/5.7k (11th september) #4 in experience (30th November) #5 in journal (june 2019) #2 in deep (june 2019)Complete
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Excerpt: "I am everything: The autumn winds easing the leaves away from their branches, A baby's smile at daddy's funny face, The tears that seep into the soil at a funeral, A heavy snowfall on Christmas Eve. I am a hug: Offered only during times of sadness, Never given often enough. I am a mirror: Reflecting the moods of those in my surroundings Or the inanimate objects that remain once all have gone home. I am a microphone: Echoing the opinions of those around me, Telling the truths of all, but only being accepted by one. I am a shell: Full of the many memories of yesterday, Unable to grasp anything today. I am a skeleton: Stripped away of any feeling, After everyone has taken a piece. I am nothing: Not a firefighter, Thanked for saving the family pet. Not a lover, Dearly missed by her significant other. Not a role model, Written about for a second grader's project. Not a person at all; I am a simple cadaver, sliced up for answers to all of life's questions." ********************************************** An original poetry collection from the last decade of my life.
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