I gave you my heart
before you knew its worth,
and loved you with a tenderness
you never quite returned.

I held on to the little things,
the moments you were kind,
and told myself that someday
you'd love this heart of mine.

Sometimes you would let me in,
and make me feel you cared,
but every time I reached for you,
there was nobody there.

I don't regret the love I gave,
or all I tried to do,
I only wish I'd realized
how little I meant to you.

And if there's one thing I regret,
it's not the love I gave,
but all the times I waited
for a love that never came.

Unused and idle eyes rest upon a mountain holding back the mourning tide.

Rays of light cast a dull hue over our horizon as we search for whom we confide.

Indiscriminate time approaches bringing with it overwhelming emptiness.

To be ready is to be broken, do not give in to sorrow for he is expecting us.

Stand upon the edge of your crashing shore and consume the sun before she sets.

Wisdom holds the battered key bound for the door that offers no regrets.

When moons rise and mountains fall upon the sea, waves of grief will stand tall.

Spoken words become stones we cast into the deep to hold back the rising wall.

Memories hold the surface steady as we leave the sand behind to begin our own.

Dusty rocks become seeds we plant until our peak becomes vigilant and grown.

I recall a time when I held you in my arms.
Your anguish palpable from the crushing weight of the world.

Your pain was my pain then, and I would carry all that and the world on my shoulders if it meant I could see your radiant smile.
I remember the promise I made as I held you. That I would always be there for you.
Always be there to care for you.
To protect you.
To lift your burdens when they were too much for your soul to bear.

I etched this promise into my heart, so that every beat would remind me of our pact.
Now you’re gone. As distant as the memory of a dream after waking.
Our bond, broken and scattered to the wind like dead autumn leaves in the gusts of a storm.

And yet, the promise in my heart remains etched there. Every beat leaving me wondering where you are.

Are you safe?
Beat
Are you comfortable?
Beat
Are you happy?
Beat

Every question left unanswered breaks my heart as I break my promise.
Feeling lost, like a knight with no kingdom left to serve. Wandering the wasteland of a cold, unknown world.

How can I possibly go on now?
I dare not forget the pact that pains me so, for it is the pain that reminds me of you.
But I know that a heart can only break so much, before the pieces are as soft as sand and drift quietly into the abyssal sea.

I remember all the times you held me in your arms, and said you loved me. My pain was your pain then, and you would carry all that and the world on your shoulders if it meant I could smile again. If it all meant a fraction to you of what it meant to me, then I think you’d want me to be the happiest I could be.
So I’ll walk this earth one step at a time, and forge a new, brighter future with the pieces of our broken promise you left behind.

Tell me honestly
what it meant
so these memories
fade to darkness.

The smell
of your candlelight
was never this strong,
yet its warmth
stuck to my skin
seeped into my bones.

Held on
like a kid
desperate

Now I’m dry
bitter, and hollow,
where’s all that bravado
when you showed up
like my savior.

Now you’re gone
tomorrow and after.

Part of me
resides in the moment
part of me
waits for the pain
of coming loss
bending my neck
for the guillotine
the weighted cross
or the albatross

Red and blue

Democrat and republican

Two horns of the same goat

One outright hates 

But the other never negates

As the creature treads upon us all

Cloven hooves all the better to trample you with my dear

The horns left shining

Gaining all manner of praise

All on top the devils perch

But no whispered deals make their way down

If the goat stays fed in riches and more

There’s no need to check its feet

The pleasure stays up

High from reach

Visible from the dirt strewn street

Weirdly enough i cannot forget,

All those thoughts from that little girls head

.

she was happy, she was clean,

a little girl so small and fragile, perfectly keen;

she'd never believe the thoughts we'd seen.

.

Sprouting of doubt and tiny regret.

all because of what was said;

.

their voices grew louder, comments soft yet sharp

'a little plump' they'd remark;

smiling with no eyes nor sincere lines.

.

words repeated all night long;

the kitchen, the bed,

all their side snipes never left her head.

.

noticing all the sights,

'ha! look at her height'

.

a vein was brought above the skin,

words seeping in,

thoughts abrupt, never settling within..

.

my thighs would touch;

hers wouldn't.

my arms were round;

hers weren't.

.

my face was round;

hers slender and kept.

little did she know,

that's what they expect.

.

their smiles seemed warm and sweet,

yet razor-sharp words hid underneath;

.

not yells or shouts,

just tiny little spouts

quiet words that chipped away, all of her childish display

.

now the number on the scale won't rise, only retreating.

No matter how much she eats.

It's about my ongoing journey and understanding of spirituality. Look forward for some feedback.

Just Be

I got a name, I don't know how

I got tamed, I don't know how

Was it to frame, I don't know how

It's insane, holy cow

I don't blame, I plough

Everyone is done the same, hear me now

There is no shame, somehow

But if you want to claim, take a vow

Come out of the game, right now

Find the flame, a bow

Reclaim, allow

Egoic maim, allow

Sounds insane, allow

It's all the same, allow

No aim, allow

Overcame, now

Be-came, now

No name, now

It's all the same, now

I wanna make a
poem out of a lot of
haikus, but I don't

know where I should start.
I figured that making one
whilst in the process

of wondering how
to might help me... I don't know
if it did or not.

I've flagged this thread as
"Poetry Prompt", the prompt is
for you to make these

types of poems. To
elaborate, you make each
haiku a stanza.

Streetlights are glowing,
like your eyes,
in that night
between the scents
of cigarettes and winter,
burning in our lungs,
as we shared our breath,
and a kiss,
from your stone-cold lips,
which burned,
like cigarettes and winter.

When I am at my lowest
I turn to the night
When I am at my highest
I turn to the day

And both will change

They feel eternal
When they aren’t

This beautiful moment
This kiss from eternity will pass
This dark night
Feeling like a whole life
Too will pass

When you look at the world
Through a magnifying glass
Everything looks bigger
When it isn’t

So remember
It feels eternal
But it isn’t

you’d call again
I’d answer
And if you said again
That you’d try one more time
Id believe you

I don’t need the truthful
Answer
Just the answer
That allows
My heart to
Sustain

So do what you must .
Cheat
Steal
Or rob
Just do it
While I wear your name

For years
I ran
From that feeling
The feeling
Of weak knees
In the midst of
Personal and solo
Heartache
But

Unlike what I told myself
For hours and days
That feeling has never left
I never pulled back the curtain
Tricking the audience
Who swore that I’d never change

So
I unopened
Your cell
And threw down the keys
And walked in it myself

So I’ll ask the question
While I day dream of biting my
Tongue

Can we try again ?

I hope you found whatever
You had been hunting,
Alone in the wonder-less night.
Steam rose there.

Air became part of my bosom,
Out of which my lung was torn.
Two eyes are separated,
In a meaningless dark.

Art was the weapon you swayed.
I tried to comprehend.

So you want to lie? Well better get going.

Cause some things are better worth not knowing.

Oh! "spot a lie", why didn't you say so?

I'd be happy to share all that I know

See, the best kind of lie doesn't mistruth at all

It simply omits what doesn't stick to the wall.

If a particular fact doesn't aid in its purpose,

a good lie omits it and feigns ignorance

See the best kind of lie is just truths that are timed.

As a simple example, ask birds how they fly.

They'll say "Flap your arms and manage your breathing."

And while they're telling the truth, you'll just end up dry heaving.

Now, to be fair, the birds may not have known

That try as you might you'd never have flown.

But imagine one moment, that they knew you would fail

What a prick bunch of birds to omit that detail!

Sorry, I've sidetracked, I just really hate birds.

Their all government drones, or at least so I've heard.

They fly all around, while they wait, watch, and listen.

They're smarter than they look, especially the pigeons.

Just look it up. The government makes birds!

Did you catch it? I lied! But you ate up my words.

Still, I suppose ,I should get back on track

A moment wasted on birds is one you won't get back.

So, let me restart, at risk of repeating.

The best lies consist of convenient truth keeping.

They don't add to an answer as long as it makes sense.

The best lies are simple but have little defence.

Introduce too much, and you risk someone thinking.

Say too much crap, and they'll smell what your stinking.

Well, there you have it: that's how you spot lies.

Now go be vigilant. (for the birds in the skies.)

Have you ever felt like everyone's life is coming together,
But your own story seems to have hit a roadblock?

We dream, and we also get scared,
Sometimes we win against ourselves, sometimes we lose to ourselves.
The world thinks everything is going well,
But how much is actually going on in our hearts?

Sometimes we value ourselves based on papers,
Sometimes we compare ourselves to others' lives.
Why does it feel like everyone else is moving ahead?
Why does it take so long for our own time to come?

In this crowd, we meet thousands of faces,
But there are only a few who resonate with our hearts.
Someone's smile can make our day,
Someone's silence can keep us awake all night.

Then one day, someone unknown feels like our own,
their tiny message feels like a dream.
The things that falter at the lips,
Those same things drift into our dreams at night.

We think, maybe they're thinking of me too,
After I'm gone, they might seek me out.
But where does every story find its destination,
Some loves only bloom in memories.

Some friends drift away with time,
While others, despite being close, become a burden.
Those we used to meet daily now feel like strangers,
And some unfamiliar faces stay close to our hearts.

Sometimes it feels like we should leave everything behind and go far away,
Where there are no questions, and we don’t have to explain ourselves.
Then a tiny hope takes hold of our hand,
And gives us a reason to live life.

Now slowly it's becoming clear,
Every lost person is teaching us something.
Every incomplete story isn't useless,
Not every wish needs to come true.

Maybe growing up doesn’t mean knowing everything,
Hiding every pain, and smiling every time.
Maybe growing up simply means—
Even after falling, telling ourselves, “The journey's not over yet.”

Because we are still writing our story,
Some pages filled with smiles, some with tears.
We are neither completely broken nor entirely ready,

We are just at that age where there are dreams, and countless questions.
And maybe one day we’ll look back,
On the paths where we find ourselves alone today,
Those same paths will lead us to ourselves tomorrow.

Sometimes I just lie awake at night, staring at the ceiling, wondering if everyone feels this way or if something is actually wrong with me. I keep telling myself it's probably just a phase and that I'll get over it eventually. But honestly, I don't even know what I'm supposed to get over. Nothing specific happens anymore. I just feel tired sometimes, and other times I feel nothing at all. And somehow, not knowing why I feel this way is worse than actually being sad.

It's strange how growing up means learning to keep things to yourself. You stop explaining why you're hurt, stop telling people when you miss them, and eventually, even your own feelings become difficult to understand.

I wonder how many versions of myself I've lost just trying to become someone everyone could accept. How many words I've swallowed, how many people I've let go of without telling them how much they meant to me, how many times I've said "it's fine" when it really wasn't.

And I don't know if it's the best or the worst part because memories fades and will fade someday. But the truth is no one cares about your late night tears and the little things that quietly break you every night but nevertheless you put a smile every morning.

You learn to laugh again, to talk normally, to act like nothing happened. But somewhere inside, there's still a part of you waiting for a letter you'll never receive, a conversation you'll never have, or a life you once thought you'd live.

Maybe that's what getting mature actually mean ? Not forgetting, not healing completely, but learning to live with all the things that never got an ending and we will never get.

HAVE YOU EVERY FELT THIS WAY ? I WILL LOVE TO KNOW YOUr THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS <3

With you I'm a puzzle that is solved

Without you, I'm a heart that's never learned to love

All of the cubes matched when I met you

The prettiest butterfly chose a milkweed that was falling

My fingers face withdrawal when your fingers sway somewhere alone

My eyes fade to black when there's no silhouette made of a lavender

When you speak, I listen and I want to store your melody in my seventh sense

With you, there's peace whispering a prayer

Without you, I'm a civilian of their world and demon is the mayor

When I found you, I found the missing piece

I was forbidden from seeing Autum, then I found June

The algorithm doesn‘t care
About the old, the new
All it cares is
If you push through

Endurance endures me
Repetition of the timeless
Old and new
So let me push through

I said it a thousand times
I want my paradise

I am rot and decay,
Every day all the same.
When last I felt sane,
I cannot proclaim.

What’s left of my mind,
All is in disarray.
A jumbled confusion
Where once was beautiful music.

A soul lacking passion,
Drab, wasteful, repetitive actions.
Regrets are a mansion,
Hope far fled, fragile features fractured

Action, inaction, dissatisfaction, distractions.
Stagnation, self hatred, silent mutilating flagellation.
A barren abyss chasing everlasting bliss.
Future once blinding, now endlessly winding.

Concrete below, craving above.
Time slowly slipping, slugging along.
Wistful glances, dreaming morningstar dances.
Light and despair, two feelings shared.

Double infraction, one foot in the casket.
Left outwaiting that which I cannot abandon.
Sympathy for souls not of my own.
Suffering must not be begotten alone.

I’m not sure how much strength
I have.
I guess I’ll find out.
I can feel myself growing older by the minute.
All it would take is for someone to throw water on me
and I’d melt like the wicked witch.
I’m blindsided by my sadness
I’m sandbagged by my tears
I sandwich my serenity
between slices of misery
and smears
of grief

You can tell by the way she walks that she's my girl
You can tell by the way she talks, she rules the world
You can see in her eyes, then, oh, I miss her change
She's my girl, my super girl

And then she said, "It's okay, I got lost on the way
But I'm a supergirl, and supergirls don't cry" And then she say, "It's alright, I got home late last night
But I'm a supergirl, and supergirls just fly"

And then she says, and nothing can go wrong When you're in love, what can go wrong?
Then she laugh, the night turned into day But she never fears the other room

And then she said, "It′s okay, I got lost on the way
But I'm a supergirl, and supergirls don′t cry"
And then she said, "It's alright, I got home late last night
But I′m a supergirl, and supergirls just fly"

But I'm a supergirl, a supergirl
Then she saw and sees this barren tree
Then she saw and sees this barren tree
Yes, she's a super girl

She′s a super girl

Encapsulated by flowers of my mind;

Roses, tulips, daises alike

The sun shines against their small spines

I water them from time to time-

When I remember, or sometimes a bit too much

Getting excessive with care and pellets of feed

How my garden grows.

I watch it all blossom, from steps to buds

And when it storms I do my best to cover them up.

Wrapping each individual blessing in the vineyard along a rod for structure,

Analyzing soil that others classify as simple dirt.

So pure, i am, with them

Even if the seeds root in negative intention

And so it grows, the garden in my head

Sometimes of bliss, some days of misery

the constancy of beauty in small things.

I will always love you, my flowers.

Finally, Finally I Got There!❣️

I can give you unconditional understanding

I can give you unconditional forgiveness

I can give you unconditional love

But I cannot give you unconditional access to my life

I can understand you and I can still leave

I can forgive you and I can still leave

I can love you and I can still leave

Finally…

Finally I got there…

I matter too!

- L. B. NEWALLME

You left me where the ocean
forgot the shape of land,
where the sky bent down to meet the water
and there was nothing left to stand on.

I watched you disappear
into the mouth of the horizon,
your silhouette growing smaller
until I couldn't tell
where you ended
and the darkness began.

I thought you might turn around.

For a while,
I mistook every passing wave
for the sound of your return.

But the sea has a way
of teaching you
what silence means.

I swallowed enough salt
to preserve a lifetime of grief.

I learned how heavy a body becomes
when it is carrying
the weight of being forgotten.

And somewhere between
the second night
and the thousandth wave,
I stopped calling your name.

Not because I had forgiven you,
not because the water had grown kind,
but because I needed the breath.

So I swam.

With trembling hands,
with lungs full of ghosts,
with nothing to guide me
but the stubborn little pulse
beneath my ribs.

I cannot tell you
how long it took to find the shore.

Only that the sand felt unfamiliar
beneath a body
that had already mourned itself.

And sometimes,
when the house is quiet
and the moon is low,
I still dream of the ocean.

Of how easily you left.

Of how certain I was
that I would die there.

And the strangest thing is,
after all this time,
I am not afraid
of the water anymore.

I am afraid
of how long I waited
for you to come back.

She's born in June and he's born in December

A tale that'll be chanted for ages was written by a lost man

Written by the man who never met November

It was me and him when he was counting his last breath

He told me to burn this poem into ashes after his death

There was a red flower I once saw from my windowsill

I knew she was my Autumn, so I reopened the same page

Which had the smell of smoke

lines I've never read before

I never let his immortal kiss the grains of sand

I wrote a line which made me a poet of his kind which was unplanned

Rain

Oh rain

Don't you cry when monsoon is gone

Beautiful things are never meant to stay forever

I cry

I must

Sweetheart

I cannot abandon the love of my life

He taught me how to love

How to live

How to fall

How to feel

Our emotions have been expressed from centuries

Does that mean we will always meet again?

If there's a thing called reincarnation, then let me be your every single time