Orange

Wane days are to long
and night are to shot
Wane summer wind blows throw our hair
with alcohol warm in our blood
and smiles come with moon kissed cheeks
I find myself drifting back to you
Back into your arms like an old habit
But wane night becomes day you fade into sunrise
Living nothing more then your empty coffee mug  
I am left loving the pieces of you; you left behind
Wane your scent finely fades from my pillow case
and I finely get around to washing your mug
Your back to do it all over again
Ones I finely let go of the pieces of you
You are back to remind me how much I love you
I wait for the day I wake you and you are still laying next to me
I wait for the day I wake up and you wear never there at all
Tell then your out of place orange coffee mug sits patently in the cupboard
-LittleTownPoet

my condolences to anyone who’s ever lost me
and to anyone who got lost in me
or to anyone who ever felt they took a loss with me.
my apologies.
for the misunderstanding or the lack thereof.
i’m sorry you missed the God in me.
and i’m sorry you missed the light.
i’m sorry you forgot the way i arose like the moon,
night after night.
with the burden to forgive
eager to feed you everything.
see.. i’m a holy woman.
i know what it’s like to give life to a being
without ever needing to press skin against one another.
i’ve practiced how to hold my tongue long enough,
i’m afraid i forgot to say goodbye.
i’m afraid you’re under the impression that i was made to please you.
i was under the impression, you understood me better.
the truth is,
i’m a super woman.
and somedays i’m an angry woman.
and somedays i’m a crazy woman.
for still waiting..
for still loving harder even if i’m aching.
for still trusting that I’m still worth the most.
for still searching
for someone to understand me better.
—  Reyna Biddy

I am trying to write a poem about my loneliness
But the page just seems to insist
on staying empty.
But loneliness isn’t emptiness
loneliness is the lead ball in the pit of your stomach
and the feathers tickling the back of your throat
loneliness is the itch you cannot scratch
it’s feeling far too much
far too little.
Loneliness is an all consuming enigma
of the past
of a past
Of a past you’re trying to forget
Of a past you can’t help but regret
Of a past that shoved you into the position
of isolation in which you reside
In which you’re going to die.
And sometimes solitude becomes gratitude
but the demolition of the monuments
that used to be perched on my ribs
left nothing but dust
and I am no longer grateful.

I used to build shrines in my heart to girls who would
never quite love me.
But that was never loneliness.
Unrequited love is a social activity because broken hearts
scream louder than all the wind in the world
howling together.
Despite the rain and miserable weather
I could fill myself up with love even though no one
would ever reciprocate
even though I always had to compensate
by giving more than I had left in me.
I would clutch my chest and rip out pieces of my heart
on which metaphors for love and birds and bones
and sadness and stars
would rest.
I could gift these to those who smiled.
Because nothing cuts into loneliness like affection
or attention
or the smile of someone who has no
reason to.
I suppose I never had a reason to.

I am trying to write a poem about the rain.
They say that people are nothing like rain
nothing like snow
nothing like autumn leaves
because people do not look beautiful when they fall.
A phrase I could never quite wrap my head around.
Because to me falling is dancing
and dancing is writing
and writing is cleaning your body of the toxins
that well up behind your eyes
and hide behind your liver
and pump fluid in your lungs.
What isn’t beautiful is hitting the ground.
The snowflakes will dissolve and the rain
will be absorbed by the greedy earth.
The leaves will rot
and you’ll be taking shots
Until your heart falls out of your chest.

Loneliness is falling
and falling is dancing
and dancing is writing
and I am trying to write a poem about my overwhelming
fear of touching the solid ground.
I am trying to write a poem about falling
Because I reside in free fall
and my heart falls for the snow
and the snow falls for the rain
and the first rule of gravity is everything
must fall
So we fall
And I fall
and you fall.

—  Fall (Emf)
I was doing well, and then one thing hit and after that I can barely lift my head up from everything thats crashed down onto me.
And half of it is because of you.
After you left, I hid my feelings so well that I even forgot I felt them. I used forgetting as a way to heal, I forgot to feel the emotions that come after a breakup and I was doing so well because of that.
But now I’m remembering. And since I’ve started I cant stop. I remember being there the first time our hands intertwined and I remember the way it felt to be so close to you. and I remember every single phone call that we had. And all that may sound nice, because it did make me smile, it did make me laugh thinking about the things you’d say but then it just hurt because your not here. none of that is here anymore.
You use to text me in all caps saying you loved me and now you don’t even look in my direction. You can’t even say hello anymore..
And it hurts, because now that I remember how it felt to be there, to have you, to love and be loved, I miss you.
I miss you so damn much and I can’t breathe because suddenly I’m reminded of when you ended things. and then the picture flashes through my mind of you with her.
And now I can’t even get out of bed anymore because life hurts too damn much.
Because I’m reminded of how people can wake up one day and decide that they don’t love you anymore. and I’m so scared that everyone I have ever known will leave.
.
—  you screwed me up
How much is your soul worth?
Once, you would have said priceless,
but your employer has haggled it down to
fifteen - no, twelve - no, eight dollars an hour,
and no benefits.
-
Some days, the work is light. You earn less.
You feel worse.
-
You tried drinking,
but the hangovers made it impossible to earn enough money
to afford more alcohol
to get more hangovers.
You settle for a quarter bag of potato chips, a warm soda,
and reruns on a borrowed Netflix account.
That is your payoff for making it through the day.
-
Adulthood wasn’t supposed to feel so flat.
You’re doing what you love - what you thought you loved -
and that is the worst part.
(Besides the rent and the utilities and the walking to work
and the constant pain in places you’ve never has pain
and the sickening dread that it will get worse,
it will all get worse.)
You wipe your mouth with a diploma that has never
gotten you a second interview.
-
Your best friend hasn’t called in two weeks.
She is engaged,
and you’ve only met him once.
Today you re-wear your sweaty socks
because you just have enough quarters
for one load of laundry, and not until Thursday.
-
On Skype, your parents smile
and ask if you need anything.
The wrinkles around their eyes have deepened.
You swallow your tongue when they ask you
if you’re making it in the big city.
Are you creating the art you’ve always dreamed of?
You pick at your comforter and tell them, of course you are.
You own the city.
-
In reality, the leather notebook that they gave you at graduation
sits unopened and empty in your dresser drawer,
beneath two filthy shirts
and underwear that you should have washed last week,
(but, you know, the quarters).
-
I’m making it, you say.
I’m making it,
and they smile at you, and you smile back,
and they say they are so proud.
—  What Do You Want to Be When You Grow Up?
and she’s too scared to get close to anyone, because anyone that ever said, “i’ll be there” left her with a broken heart.

sometimes the best medicine is just taking a break from the world. finding a little corner of the universe and allowing yourself to sit down and just breathe. to recuperate. because the truth is, life isn’t a straight path. it’s curvy and bumpy and filled with mountains and oceans for you to cross and you can’t keep running on empty and expect yourself to thrive. eventually you will break down and need some road-side assistance and that’s okay! take a break. get some rest. make the call. hold someone’s hand. allow yourself room to heal and to better yourself. the world is yours, you have all the time you need to heal, so take some today.

Loving somebody who you know loves somebody else and no longer loves you is what turns love into something thats so painful it could be called torture.
—  VoicelessConfessions // love & something
And I hate to be the one to break it to you kid, but this isn’t a movie. There’s no knight in shining armor who’s going to come in at the last second and sweep you off your feet. The mean girl doesn’t have a change of heart and accept you with open arms before it’s too late. The man you love isn’t going to run through the airport and beg you to stay. There is no montage of you suddenly getting your life together and finding your way. This is no movie kid, and I hate to be the one to break it to you but the real world kinda sucks. It’s messy and chaotic and nothing like the fairytale you imagined it would be. But that’s okay. You’ll figure it out eventually. And it might not be as picture perfect as you had imaged, but it’ll be raw and real and magical nonetheless.
—  f.a.w
be patient, gentle, and kind. crying is okay, it means your heart hasn’t hardened and that you are still soft. it’s okay to be emotional, it’s okay to have bad days. it’s okay to lash out, it’s okay to be unkind sometimes. it’s all about how you make up for it. forgive. forgive those who wronged you. you don’t have to at first, but work to forgive and if you can’t forgive the person who hurt you, forgive yourself for being hurt. don’t bleed for anyone who doesn’t bleed for you. don’t settle for someone who doesn’t sacrifice themselves to see you thrive. don’t settle for pain when you know you could have happiness. believe in yourself. believe in others. good friends make good character. people are attracted to sunshine, people are attracted to a happy you. (the sad you is still beautiful, your sunshine pulls people in) and love. love endlessly. love even when you think you really can’t anymore because i promise, you will never run out of love.
—  things i’ve learned in 2016