I think constantly.
I sat on your doorstep, back touching air, legs swinging from the white wood I perched upon. You talk sweetly, kind and messy. I wonder how I came across, my mask is hanging, my eyes are still bright, aren’t they? Can you tell the difference between the last time you saw me, do I look happier? Please say I do, tell me everything.
There’s a song i really like: Savior complex - phoebe bridgers. It feels like a mantra, like something that makes sense in my head but doesn’t verbalize right.
You still remind me too much of myself, when I look into brown eyes I see green instead. I can’t verbalize the way you remind me, the way you drag me through the parts I hate most about myself. I ask myself then, “is this too much?’ i always feel like too much.
Like an overflowing glass, like a tub with the tap on. Is this how everyone feels?
I wish you could have trusted me
How much I panicked
When I thought you vanished
And sank into the darkest
Corners of yourself
I wanted to be
A voice to let you know
You didn’t have to be alone
I’m still waiting for the panic
After inrealized you vanished
Only from me
How I delight in her company, her presence intoxicates. The soft mornings as our bodies lay bare against one another. The stillness as I listen to her breathe, her heart beating against mine, how I treasure these moments with her. ~ B.T.
I miss the knots you used to tie in my stomach. I miss you.
The storm claw
Clutches the window
Slams it shut
With great impudence
But the heart skips no beat
For despair’s audible holler
As the wind rages shrieking
Its invasion, an inversion
Of the known, experienced within
That despite its crudeness
Offers the sentiment of recognition
Being seen, being met
Halfway in living regret
Halfway, for I can no longer muster
Tear nor whimper
The storm roars
Before I lock the window
And hear the rain violently strum
As I turn to seek a dream
21-1-2021, M.A. Tempels ©
poem a word stained beauty
melancholy a script
an opium descend from poet
i fear the day You’ll say
More than ofear You’ll never say
Will i be strong enough?
i’m too weak to guard my heart
please don’t expect me to treasure yours
and please don’t say
I never will
You and i, Heaven and hell,
the worst will crumble
When it is to keep the Best
Now, the light’s a liar
a hopeless-dreams distance
still allows us to believe.
i go to sleep
an idea next to me
I call it: You
It’s a lonesome bed and restless sleep
But better to dream
Than to breathe a nightmare
Forgive me, if i flee your touch
You will find, my skin is cold
But i wish my hand could be a promise
But i fear it is a question
When you knock at my door
’Why did you find me?
You, my truest and purest lover will know my middle name; you will observe it’s signifance, it’s sacredness, and keep it safe in your heart. I won’t have to explain—you’ll know my name and understand it. You’ll know why. You will have insight into everything—who I am and why I am. You’ll always understand me. I won’t have to explain myself. You will know. You will always have known.
Here is my discovery: If you consistently hammer empowering beliefs into your mind it slowly stops being a prison. I use recorded affirmations. They will always work to your advantage, in my personal experience, if you give them the time and chance to really sink into your psyche. I suggest identifying the one belief you most like or need to change and then turning that into a positive affirmation, such as, for example, “I deserve love” or “I am beautiful” or “I can add value to other people”. All you have to do now is to turn your affirmations into recordings and listen to them on a loop. Do not be discouraged if you don’t seem to feel better right away or even during the first week. Change takes time. Just stick to it and you will eventually notice improvement in your way of thinking and consequently your emotional state.
It’s a shame I can’t comfortably possess my middle name, a name I’ve wanted fully since I was a little girl, without resorting to hiding it and treating it like a dead name. I have a sick fear of it being known, of it being polluted by the eyes of the hateful and envious presence of an entity that decided to bare the same name. It’s like I have to kill a part of my identity to protect it from evil.
there’s something about
this longing that just won’t
shut up, I open my mouth &
it spills out of my throat. they
say the road to heaven is paved
with infinity, & infinity is made of
all the love between you & I -
those who were brave enough
to fall in love & believe in the
word forever, are the reason
it’s there within the pages. i wrote it, with my own small hands and from my own small mind (heart?) choose one, choose the other, weigh them and be the judge. right brained, left brained, on the correct side of the universe. i am a robot or i am an overwhelmed mess, i am warned against and sympathized for. little one, you were a wonder to be and a laugh to look back on, but i often wonder if your little comparisons of machine vs too human would ever be a prediction of the future.
when will i know me
when can i become i
do i exist as i
or just an organization of hungry cell
i a slave plan to prison break
silence is the missing page I can’t stop reading over and over again. with all my heart I try, but often fail to brush the ghosts aside. and at times I look back, if only to be sure he’s gone. so darling, please forgive me if I hesitate, it’s not that i’m afraid of love, I’m just the girl who fell behind, and paid the price in salt.
maybe the reason you spent so much time in the darkness was to help show others the way out.
Disappear into me. Blend with my bones, so that we cannot see where one ends and the other begins.
𝙙𝙧𝙪𝙣𝙠 𝙥𝙤𝙚𝙩𝙨 || ileana amara. ☾
most poets seem to be too drunk in love,
vomiting out words as their heart throbbed
while i was one who stayed sober,
after a few bad hangovers;
writing as i clutch a bottle of wine to cope,
maybe next time, i’ll pour it onto a glass of hope.
Once I thought she was the moon
An ethereal goddess is never know
Other than the light she brings
When the sun has set and the stars shine
How wrong was I, a foolish man
To think I couldn’t fly
All I needed was to believe
In the power within myself
Then I took wing, into the sky
And reached infinity
Upon her cheek I did alight
With the gentlest touch I have
And moonlight passed right through me
Still a mortal man
Yet my goddess, lady moon
Was real, and held my hand
All I had to do to reach her cheek
Was reach out, take a chance
- © Michael Greywood Poetry 2021 -