PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Passion
Thrashing
To grab you
My future
Our culture
Combined, intertwined
Meant to be
You and me

You left
It's for the best if
I jumped off a cliff and
Ran away
Go away
Emotions canned
Love is banned
I need you
Come back
Love is what I lack

 I Lost My Ability To Cry
I'm Hurting So Much
I Feel Hurt
I Feel Pain
I Want To Cry
But Theres Not Tears
Theres No Emotions
Hold Me Please

Because I Can't Feel My Arms
I Can't Feel My Legs Anymore
I Feel Like Crying
But I'm Dying In My Sleep
Waking Up With Dried Up Eyes
I Don't Remember Crying
I Don't Remember Sleeping
Chill Runs Through On My Skin

Crying Out In Pain
I Wish I Could Cry
For My Body Can't Take It Anymore
Is This What It Feels Like
Why Must I Feel So Cold
Why Must I Feel So Emotionless
Pieces Of My Heart
Tears In Pieces

I Wish Again
I Could Cry
Just Once More
If I Could Hold You
If I Could Hug You
And Tell You One More Thing
I Just Want To Cry
I Want To Cry On Your Shoulder

I see all the little shadows,

I claim to be only a curse.

I am only a memory after all.

I breathe and make everything worse.

I am built of the moments they left me.

I run in the sand just to cry.

I stand and the floor drops underneath.

I don’t know the words, they’ve slipped by.

They trust me, they say I am the poet.

They tell me I’ll make it someday.

But how can I be the right poet

when I say the right words the wrong way?

All the tidal waves push past me.

I float off the ground

my steps are so heavy when there’s no one around

I have to keep making sure I am solid

I can’t stay rounded

when I’m forced into corners and suffocating

I smile at blank faces in the hallways

on days that I feel like a sixth grader

with nowhere to sit

and now here I am with my crooked teeth

expecting you all to believe me.

I hang the sun from my shoelaces

I say I say I say I still think the world is beautiful

I say I say I keep saying I’m fine

Repeat with me this punch line

we’ve all understood

when the hands creep in

and all the silence

comes knocking at our doors.

Before my blood is old and forgotten

I want to spill it glittering

onto your words and make me lighter,

feather enough to take flight.

And then our lips touch,

there are so many more places to sit,

so many audiences to follow my pen.

When my heart is bound to beat out of this living

I look out at the crowd

and they all have your smell,

your eyes,

your handwriting,

you touch me with hands that don’t sink through

and I am solid,

I am something,

I am yours,

we are home.

Now I am with you

and I won’t float off the ground anymore.

Loneliness

By jfarrell

It’s not about people,

Or numbers of people;

You spend time with hundreds of people everyday,

Some of them the same people…..

But,

When you can’t connect… make a link… a spark….

People I’ve known 20 years are as connected

As people I see on tv or films….

To me, that is.

I stop the film, the tv show….

I go home from work…

These people just cease to exist

Until tomorrow,

When I see them again.

Loneliness is about not connecting with people….

And, what is ‘connecting with people’…..?

I don’t know how to define that….

I assume it’s an ‘emotional’ connection….

“We got a spark between us, we have.”

That’s emotional, right?

Or just old corny chat up lines?

When you think of ‘mum’ or ‘dad’….

There’s an emotional element to it?….

Love?…. loyalty?…..

I have a mum I hate;

A sister I still won’t see after nearly 36 years;

And recently said goodbye,

To the only “friends” I had.

To have ‘connected’….

With someone…..

Ever….

It’s not about people;

It’s about connecting with people.

And I don’t know how to connect.

Loneliness is being in the room with your love,

And realizing that there is no love in the room.

Loneliness is having a nightmare in bed,

And rolling over to realize that the dream was warmer than real life.

When I needed you

You weren't there

When I had to trust you

You broke my trust

When I held you up

You knocked me down

When I gave you everything

You took it all away

Loneliness is wanting to be understood,

But realizing that no-one else

Has the time or patience to discover

Who you really are

you don’t want me because I spend

too much time

crying in elevators.

I am a slave to the not-enoughs

hibernating in my throat

and when no one comes to save me

I don’t tell you because I am caving

and I don’t want you to crawl where I’ve been.

you don’t want me because I don’t know what I’m doing.

admit it

and you can’t make me anything

I have always wanted to be for you

so all I have is a pebble with your name hacked into it on impulse

I have nothing else lasting to give you.

you don’t want me because my voice carries like bad news.

I like to think I tell you everything

but there are things I don’t ever want to hear come from my own lips

or the dam will break and I will never stop shaking.

and sometimes I write things

not because they are true

but because they sound like a waterfall

and I think you want to be drenched.

I am not honest,

trust me.

I am not a pretty crier

you say that

because when I cry

here

I hold back

I fucking

hold back

internalize

I fucking-

hey-

don’t stand so close-

you might come down

with me-

I don’t open

I am locked

without a key

I am lost

without a compass

and no one is finding me

in this forest

there is nowhere I can go

where no one will see me hit the wall

and so now I remember

how lonely I really am

I am not good at being alone

and yet they tell me

it is my greatest talent

where does that put me?