19 IX

jak promienia słońca

dla pszczół i kwiatów

lub ciepłe zachody słońca

dla pary kochanków

tak dla mnie

to dzięki tobie

moje życie

jest kompletne

NS. @brudne-wiersze

I used to

Move all my hair

To the left side of me

Cause you used to sit on my right

And bury your face in my neck

I moved my part to the right

So it was easier to move it out of the way

Just for you

Even though you didn’t do it as much

So really there was no point

But now I’ve gone back

To my part on the left

And the sweep to the right

Something nobody would notice

But me

And it makes me that much happier

Our strength is often perceived

To be how we weather the storms

How we stand strong against the winds

And bend without breaking

Only to snap back, standing tall

Despite the driving wind and rain

But I believe

That our strength is truly seen

When we recover from disaster

And what was normal is gone

In how we return to living

When our world has changed

In how we react to the world

In the brand new day to day


© -Michael Greywood Poetry 2018-

long gone

i miss june, i miss

summer days of endless sun and

sipping lemonade and

i miss the unfettered happiness of

seemingly endless daylight,

and i miss how things used to be —

seamlessly pieced together,

i miss how you and i would

sit and watch the infinite sky without

a worry in the world, i miss how

we could reach up and touch the universe, this

world that was ours for the taking, for now

i wake up to darkness and shadows, and

all that’s left of june is memories,

already fading, for now, when i reach up 

to touch this dark, desolate sky, you

are not there, and this world,

our universe

is long gone

Ode to Many Moons

Oh, you,

Drip me with molten silver, and

Mold me into statues–

Form me into creatures that

Walk in your path.

Make me in your image

(Dulled when day breaks)

But alive, so alive,

When stars blink in at twilight:

Give me your greatness, unseen

Glimmering in the dark–

Oh, you,

Send me your wings

So I can run in your light.

The waters of the night lap closer to the curves of my ear. 
I can hear it now, lying on this grainy bed.
Each grain scraping the softness of my skin, making fresh new welts with each water lap.
I can remember how the sun felt like, the warmth oozing into each cell, burning and hot, enflaming all it sees.
It growing louder now, louder than it used to be.
The cold wetness is on my face, gliding up to the tip of my nose.
How long till the water recedes, with the sunlight and the steam taking the night away.
Or will the water grow colder, the salt clinging to my pores, drying out my blood, preserving me forever more in the ocean floor.
Till I am crystallised and nothing more than an ornament of the sea.

I opened my soul to her

and she found something better.

I opened my soul to him

and he couldn’t understand.

I opened my soul to you,

against my better judgment,

and you thought it was a joke.

This would prove all my theories

about locking in my yolk;

because an egg that opens

is an egg that ends up broke.

-s.

table salt

Do you remember that day?

When the sun smiled upon us like a naive baby

And the clouds her restless mother,

Always drinking her sweet moscato

While smoking empty cigarettes.

When the grass stretched for miles,

Seemingly endless,

Not even a tree here or there to decorate the landscape,

And the vodka filled our guts and

warmed our hearts.

When the mice sent themselves on journeys

And we watched them talk amongst themselves

On the train.

When the kisses and the love which we shared

Was enough.

When the moon was visible in the daylit sky,

And danced with the sun, mourning for last week,

Childish.

God, I want 
to write something
that matters,
words that stick
to the roof of someone’s
mouth when they're 
crying at 3 a.m.
words that are engrained
on skin for eternity.
I want to write something
that changes the way 
someone sees the world
around them, words
that encourage someone
to stay and weather the storm.
—  a.k.
some days i try to tell
my thoughts, my feelings
but no one wants to listen
then i feel tears coming
my eyes turn glassy
my voice disappears 
and i feel so small
so meaningless 
so i retrieve 
i go back in hiding
—  t.m.

i want to fall asleep next to you, 

curve my spine against your chest,

intertwine our fingers and 

drift my lips across your neck,

and let whispers of my love 

drip like honey into your mouth. 

- e.

07.13

Every time we fight, I write something. Every time we make up, I write something. You know, how with cameras and smartphones, people forget to live the moment because they’re too busy capturing it? I think with tumblr, I have forgotten how loving you felt like, I only remember how writing about it was like.
—  //nikitagupta