Submissions by aprilpeach414
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
What I needed
I stare at you squirming on the computer screen,
it still feels unreal. It has to be a dream,
this wasnt supposed to be happening.
Was this how it was supposed to be?
But I see that little heart beat.
And I cant help but smile,
this gift your daddy gave me,
a beautiful little child.
I looked at every inch of you,
still forming in my soul,
and my heart breaks knowing,
at one point I contemplated letting you go.
I can't promise you forever,
but I will promise you I will try.
I will always be there for you,
whether you...
it still feels unreal. It has to be a dream,
this wasnt supposed to be happening.
Was this how it was supposed to be?
But I see that little heart beat.
And I cant help but smile,
this gift your daddy gave me,
a beautiful little child.
I looked at every inch of you,
still forming in my soul,
and my heart breaks knowing,
at one point I contemplated letting you go.
I can't promise you forever,
but I will promise you I will try.
I will always be there for you,
whether you...
696 reads
0 Comments
Mr. Tree
Sitting on dirty grey concrete.
the only lights aredim from the street lights.
and the red burning at the end of my cigarette.
Staring out at an Elm tree.
Sucking each ounce of carcinogenic chemical,
into my badly abused lungs.
admiring the simplistic beauty
of life in a standstill.
I study each leaf on a half full tree,
missingthe emerald luster that is it's neighbor.
Content in the dragness of what it is accostomed to.
It's tired and weathered.
It remains the same.
The same magestic creature forgotten over time.
I stare at...
the only lights aredim from the street lights.
and the red burning at the end of my cigarette.
Staring out at an Elm tree.
Sucking each ounce of carcinogenic chemical,
into my badly abused lungs.
admiring the simplistic beauty
of life in a standstill.
I study each leaf on a half full tree,
missingthe emerald luster that is it's neighbor.
Content in the dragness of what it is accostomed to.
It's tired and weathered.
It remains the same.
The same magestic creature forgotten over time.
I stare at...
745 reads
1 Comment
Perception in Color
White-
Patriarch.
Dying inside.
Weathered.
Accepting.
Finalizing.
Beige-
Lost.
Losing hope.
Smiling in spite.
Repressing.
Broken.
Fixable.
Longing.
Grey-
Experienced.
Empty.
Hopeful.
Suspicious.
Eager.
Longing.
Love.
Freedom.
Black-
Hopeless.
Dreams shattered.
Anger.
Resentment.
Yearning.
Wanting a fantasy.
Forgetting reality.
Not knowing.
Not learning.
Yet loved.
So loved.
Mahogany-
Future for greatness.
Future for...
Patriarch.
Dying inside.
Weathered.
Accepting.
Finalizing.
Beige-
Lost.
Losing hope.
Smiling in spite.
Repressing.
Broken.
Fixable.
Longing.
Grey-
Experienced.
Empty.
Hopeful.
Suspicious.
Eager.
Longing.
Love.
Freedom.
Black-
Hopeless.
Dreams shattered.
Anger.
Resentment.
Yearning.
Wanting a fantasy.
Forgetting reality.
Not knowing.
Not learning.
Yet loved.
So loved.
Mahogany-
Future for greatness.
Future for...
630 reads
1 Comment
My Escape
The other night I laid in my bed,
I couldn't breathe,
The room caved in like a pyramid,
The walls, slowly entraping me in a prison.
Everywhere I turned, was you.
My prison of you.
My hell.
I closed my eyes and all I saw was you.
There was no escaping you.
In my prison of you.
My hell.
The tears rolled down my face,
and I heard you.
Mocking me in this prison.
My ribcage heaved, yet no oxygen was entering my lungs.
slowly suffocating,
in this prison of your memories,
in my hell of you.
So with every ounce of strength, I...
I couldn't breathe,
The room caved in like a pyramid,
The walls, slowly entraping me in a prison.
Everywhere I turned, was you.
My prison of you.
My hell.
I closed my eyes and all I saw was you.
There was no escaping you.
In my prison of you.
My hell.
The tears rolled down my face,
and I heard you.
Mocking me in this prison.
My ribcage heaved, yet no oxygen was entering my lungs.
slowly suffocating,
in this prison of your memories,
in my hell of you.
So with every ounce of strength, I...
900 reads
1 Comment
Accountability
At what point can you really say, whoa I fucked up.
Is it when you realize that the dreams you once had have not been succeeded,
is it when you look around, and see you have nothing?
Or is it when you know you had everything,
and let it go carelessly,
knowing full well you were inflicting,
negative energy on everything,
disregarding the beauty,
of be loved so freely,
and having others admire you,
for your everything.
How does it feel when you realized you took everything for granted?
Every missed...
Is it when you realize that the dreams you once had have not been succeeded,
is it when you look around, and see you have nothing?
Or is it when you know you had everything,
and let it go carelessly,
knowing full well you were inflicting,
negative energy on everything,
disregarding the beauty,
of be loved so freely,
and having others admire you,
for your everything.
How does it feel when you realized you took everything for granted?
Every missed...
824 reads
2 Comments
catalyst
i dream of you,
a refreshing escape from my emotional turmoil,
i think of the way you kiss me,
and how for the first time in a long time,
it excites a part of my brain,
wanting to explore the devilish dispostion that is you.
i want to lick the sweat off your face,
as i continue to just be another number,
i want to kiss your forehead,
and thank you,
you are my catalyst.
you are my release,
you make me feel comfortable in my own skin,
you remind me of who i am.
a refreshing escape from my emotional turmoil,
i think of the way you kiss me,
and how for the first time in a long time,
it excites a part of my brain,
wanting to explore the devilish dispostion that is you.
i want to lick the sweat off your face,
as i continue to just be another number,
i want to kiss your forehead,
and thank you,
you are my catalyst.
you are my release,
you make me feel comfortable in my own skin,
you remind me of who i am.
811 reads
2 Comments
im sorry, its not you, its me
1596 reads
6 Comments
and when the sun sets...
i fight a war within myself.
i rebel against what i am supposed to be.
i turn a blind eye to who i really am.
im lost in a world full of double standards.
im entagled in a false reality of wonderlust.
i know what i want and who i choose to be.
how i choose to love, and express myself freely.
and the constant eyes of disapproval don't phase me.
and the future consequences of present actions intrigue me.
and how i dispense my love to those who may not deserve me.
how i sacrifice my sanity for those around me.
they are conscious decisions i choose...
i rebel against what i am supposed to be.
i turn a blind eye to who i really am.
im lost in a world full of double standards.
im entagled in a false reality of wonderlust.
i know what i want and who i choose to be.
how i choose to love, and express myself freely.
and the constant eyes of disapproval don't phase me.
and the future consequences of present actions intrigue me.
and how i dispense my love to those who may not deserve me.
how i sacrifice my sanity for those around me.
they are conscious decisions i choose...
807 reads
0 Comments
Angel
My hair was a mess and fat tears ran down my chubby little face. I was 5 years old. At this exact moment in my life I hated my father. I despised my mother. They were dead to me.I didn’t understand how they could allow strange people to prod and poke at me. To continuously stick me with needles until my arms were black and blue and the tops of all my little fingers were covered in bandages from the incessant iron testing these nurses kept doing to me.This time I was going to be brave though. I held my little black bear and held my daddy’s hand.
I hated him with a passion at this...
I hated him with a passion at this...
1103 reads
3 Comments
Him
He was dangerous and everything I knew I shouldn’t have wanted to
be.
But I did.
From his middle finger to the air, to his venomous
words.
He got me.
At this exact moment, he got me.
He got my angst. My inability to filter out my emotions and my sense of urgency to contain them.
He encouraged me.
He encouraged me to raise my middle
finger to anyone and everything that has ever hurt me and scream at the
top of my lungs, “FUCK YOU!”.
He was arrogant and cocky, and exactly what I needed to bring out the strength in me. ...
be.
But I did.
From his middle finger to the air, to his venomous
words.
He got me.
At this exact moment, he got me.
He got my angst. My inability to filter out my emotions and my sense of urgency to contain them.
He encouraged me.
He encouraged me to raise my middle
finger to anyone and everything that has ever hurt me and scream at the
top of my lungs, “FUCK YOU!”.
He was arrogant and cocky, and exactly what I needed to bring out the strength in me. ...
796 reads
1 Comment
Over it?
It was always about you. Always. I made it that way. I felt that you could only understand how much I loved you, if I completely sacrificed myself for you. I put myself on the cross. I bore your pain and hurt. I lived to make you rise. It’s all I ever wanted, to look into your eyes, and know you knew exactly what I felt.
Maybe I was wrong for allowing myself to become so transparent, that those
who didn’t even know me, could see right through me, and only see you.
For so long, I allowed myself to become a satellite to your moon, merely
masking my existence in your...
Maybe I was wrong for allowing myself to become so transparent, that those
who didn’t even know me, could see right through me, and only see you.
For so long, I allowed myself to become a satellite to your moon, merely
masking my existence in your...
984 reads
4 Comments
Real to me
The sandpaper feel of your calloused hands pulling my hips
down,
Close to you.
Closer to you.
Your eyes intently stare into mine,
As I gaze into yours,
Our lips meeting as a breathy moan escapes my vocal cords,
Your hand moving up my side as you penetrate my soul,
My legs clasp around your sweaty, tattooed body,
Arching my back to feel you completely inside,
I nuzzle my head into your shoulder biting you,
Consuming you,
...
down,
Close to you.
Closer to you.
Your eyes intently stare into mine,
As I gaze into yours,
Our lips meeting as a breathy moan escapes my vocal cords,
Your hand moving up my side as you penetrate my soul,
My legs clasp around your sweaty, tattooed body,
Arching my back to feel you completely inside,
I nuzzle my head into your shoulder biting you,
Consuming you,
...
1065 reads
2 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by aprilpeach414