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jersey May 2022
It’s 02:12 and I don’t think about you anymore.

Except for when I wake up in the morning to texts that aren’t from you.
And when I go to sleep without anyone wishing me sweet dreams.
How did I live so long without these things?
How do I live without them again?

It’s 02:15 and I don’t think about you anymore.

Except for when I’m upset
and you’re the only voice who can soothe me.
Or when I’m happy
and you’re the only person I want to share it with.
Or when I'm simply bored
and I’m in the mood to get on your nerves.
Who do I talk to now?
Why don't I want to talk to anyone else?

It’s 02:21 and I don’t think about you anymore.

Except for when your favorite song plays
and I blast it as high as my speakers go and pretend you’re here listening with me.
These songs don’t comfort me anymore.
They feel like ringing in my ears and knives in my heart.
Why can't I find it in me to skip them?
When will these songs just be songs again?

It’s 02:24 and I don’t think about you anymore.

Except for every second of every day.
There is always something new I want to tell you
but you don’t care anymore.
I keep these thoughts in a log in my head,
“To tell Her later.”
When is later?
Why do I keep lying to myself and pretending there is a later?

It’s 02:27 and I don’t think about you anymore.

Except for when I fall asleep and dream of you.
No one prepared me for the way you’d infiltrate my psyche.
You’ve lodged yourself deep in my subconscious.
Why won’t you leave?
Why won’t I let you leave?

But it’s 02:30 and I don’t think about you anymore.
AE May 2022
Do you remember when tunneling ravines would flow through our stomachs before we spoke out into the open?
And how vigorously tapping our feet felt like the only way to shake the mountains, daring to bury us alive...
or how when cold shoulders felt like judgment harmonized
and yet the dissonance euphonized in our ears as we swept our heads back into the open arms of the universe,
engulfed by inescapable laughter  

Now things are different; you wear your heart on your sleeve, washing the shores of people and things that scare you with your perpetual confidence,

and I proudly observe in wonder and admiration...

Distantly tapping my feet, fighting ravines, and laughing alone.
louella Apr 2022
it was astonishing
that you noticed
i was gone

i thought i was on my own
haha i was sick/dying of pain one day at school and i had to go home. i was shocked so many people texted me and asked me if i was ok.

1.31.22
SS Jan 2022
i used to hate having
     my photo taken

to see every flaw and imperfection on display.

i used to hate
    the photos taken

the ones you glued into our scrapbook.

but now?
i love the photos given

& what they do to me.

for before
it felt like memories stolen

a painful reminder of
love
lost

today?
it reminds me of memories given
all the love we gave

it's scrapbooked in my memory
and brings a smile to my brain

so thank you for the photos taken
as they no longer bring me any pain.
hello, poetry. i'm healing and back home.
Persephone Jan 2022
To all the ones who didn’t make it,
Tell me are you finally at peace?
Did the weight of the world truly leave you be?
I’m simply asking because I am one of the ones who did make it
And wonder what would have happened if I didn’t make it?
Has the addiction to be perfect stopped eating you from the inside out?
Or the need to please everyone, by now surely that drive must no longer be around?
To all the ones who didn’t make it, tell me it got easier?
What about the voices, the voices in your head that could never be drowned out, the voices that always told you “you’d never be good enough” for the love of god tell me they finally listened, tell me they finally shut up?
And are you still able to feel numb to all the hurt?
That you don’t have to fight the cravings any longer? Tell me, tell me there is no harm to just giving in?
Tell me, tell me please
To all the ones who didn’t make it, tell me how it was worth it?
Or would you rather ask me first?
Would you rather ask me how warm the sun feels on a lazy august afternoon?
Because you can’t seem to remember what that feels like any longer
Or if the roses still bloom with the promise to smell sweet and to bring the honey bees around?
You’re starting to forget what they look like
What about chocolate you ask, is it still known to melt in your mouth and bring a smile to your face?
At least that is what you think the rumours you heard say
And is laughter with loved ones truly contagious?
It’s been a while since you’ve done it yourself
You go on to ask about blue skies and cozy rainy days
Old teachers that made you fall in love with learning and the ones you’re happy you’ve forgotten about
We discuss friendships new and old and how far they’ve come sadly in your absence
And when I’ve answered all your questions you finally agree to answer mine
But I simply smile and say,
To all the ones who didn’t make it, may you please forget I ever asked?
Mark Toney Oct 2021
My dreams are bright
feather light
at night
conditions right
Carefree
Mind free
Life's challenges
to be won
Feeling warmth
from noonday sun

I dream of water
floating
boating
with Dad
Sparkle Lake
water ripples
Lost Dad
Double nickels
Still sad
Memory trickles

I dream of sky
Fly
High
Cropduster
Single prop
Big John
Name drop
Macho swagger
Li’l Baby
Taildragger

I dream in hues
greens, blues
Love so true
dancing with you
Faces aglow
manhattans flow
******
Need a drummer
Low-rent venues
party continues

I dream less bright
feather light
at night
conditions right
Carefree
Mind free
As when I
was young
Colder now
in the setting sun




Mark Toney © 2021
Poetry form: Free Verse - Mark Toney © 2021
Destiny C Sep 2021
SA Trigger Warning*

I can still remember the couch.
The way I cried in my friend's arms when I thought of that couch.
Pinned down.
Abused.
Forcefully used.
On the couch.

Couch.

I still remember going into my apartment alone after.
The way my body shaked for nights spent crying in my bed after.
At my friend's apartment after.
In the hospital after.
Years after.

After.

They say the mind can forget sometimes,
but what always remembers the trauma is the body.
The one that kicked and fought off the body.
The one that layed under the body.
The violated body.
The tortured body.
The unsafe body.

The Body

After

The Couch...

was never the same.
Not for me to blame.

I know that now.
If you or someone you know has been subjected to ****** assault. Please be aware that you can contact the ****** Assault Hotline: 1-800-656-4673 (US).
Jaden Sep 2021
Tattoos are scars
we choose to keep--
words we want to carry,
memories we fear losing;
ink and needle are
the self-inflicted stinging:
the pain we choose to feel.
art on our bodies--
out of our minds--
something
real.
I have my father's name tattooed on my wrist not because I forgive him, but because I have forgiven myself and I choose to carry that with me.
Sally Thomas Aug 2021
A beautiful sunset
A whispering breeze
Birdsong in the morning
Blossoming trees

Green buds in Springtime
The summer sun’s glow
Red leaves in Autumn
The crunch of crisp snow

The sky’s brightest star
A sparkly moon
The lilting melody
From a favourite tune

You may not be around
But you’re always still here
Every second, every minute
Each day, week, month, year.
I’m not very good at expressing grief so I write poems about it. This one’s for my friend Ness. I miss her every single day. 💔
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