Poems about falling


№ 1209421

Free falling

I felt as though I missed the last step on my stairs
I felt so stupid for not realising
I was laughing at myself
My whole world felt like I was falling and I couldn't understand why till I was told the truth
And now my feet r placed on the ground
But suddenly I miss falling
It seemed to feel like I was flying
As free as a bird
Now I'm no longer free but trapped in a cage we call socitry

falling,  free.

Author: Shadowhollow
Date: 06/04/2020

№ 1209219

Falling Online

If I could watch you, indiscreetly
I'd find the truth in our facade
The loop hole in your portrayal of perfection
That you so effortlessly masque
I remain on edge, my heart on guard
Because I know you only allow me to see one piece
Of the anomaly of thee
And for me it would only seal the deal if
I could be a wallflower, to find if you were real

falling,  online.

Author: Jay
Date: 06/04/2020

№ 1208998

Falling is Flying

My heart
Slows for a moment
As my hands
Brush against my face

This is a feeling
I've learned to know well
So numb and distant

No one understands
They will never know
Or hear my cries
Because the silence
Has become my new home

Four walls surround me
As I lie in my bed
It feels more like a coffin
Is where I rest my head
My hands are folded
And then I realize
I am ready to stay like this

The very thread
Of my existence
Is tearing apart
And I do not fight
To catch myself
Before I fall apart

I'm tired of running
Tired of hiding
I'm tired of being the
Only one who is trying

This is not living
So, perhaps I am dying

After all

Falling is flying
When you're barely

falling,  flying.

Author: Katherine Laslie
Date: 06/04/2020

№ 1208496


I'm falling
F a l l i n g
F a l l i n g
Aaaaaaaaaand I'm dead.


Author: fairy
Date: 05/04/2020

№ 1207781

I keep falling and can't stop

Just when i think i'm done falling for you, a whole new depth opens in your heart and i find myself falling deeper and deeper and the butterflies in my stomach still flutter and my smile appears more often and i'm scared that one day i'll fall so hard and you won't be there to cushion my fall and i'll be left all alone again.

falling,  keep,  t.

Author: aesha nisar
Date: 05/04/2020

№ 1207671

A Falling Angel

You've been trying to save me
Ever since I fell
But what you seem to forget
Is that you're the one
Who threw me out of heaven
And now
That my wings are burned
And I'm declining
At terminal velocity
You want to reach out
To be my salvation
But it's too late for me
I've gone too far
And lost too much
To find my way back
And honestly
I'd rather crash head first
Into the hell that awaits me
Than to accept deliverance
From the one who murdered me

angel,  falling.

Author: burned up
Date: 04/04/2020

№ 1207039


My smile is burden with the weight of disappointment
With every let down I have been handed
Envelope folded desolation
I have learned to speak sorrow
With my tongue bended backwards
Trained in speaking a language
I might never fully understand
Sew stitching every reality
Along the corners of my mouth
Wear glasgow happiness
As if it's enough
To trick me out of my insecurities
Help me to believe
That contentment
Is not just temporary
That not everybody who comes into my life
Plans on leaving
But I am too familiar with goodbye
To understand welcome
I am used
To crossing my arms into shield
Knotting my fists into apology
I may never know conversation without sorry
But am attempting
To set my expectations low enough
To able to reach them
Without falling.


Author: Danielle Shorr
Date: 04/04/2020

№ 1206549

The Globe is Cracking, I'm not Falling

There is a 3% chance I'll find you here. But if in each pair of eyes I dip, I find 1/8 of you; I'll be there soon.

I didn't crawl here; I took a plane. I spent six hours tracing the Atlantic from my window and you rose from the sea, dry and unsalted, twice each nautical mile. I would say it was my imagination, or the California wine, but I wear glasses now and never lie about what I see. It was you. And you and you and you.

Stealing is easier here. Maybe it's the crowds or the way the men smile at me like I'm harmless, but my hands move without question. They don't fumble or miss pockets, my heartbeat doesn't even protest. In prayer beads, silkworm cocoons, oils and sea rings, I am in debt to a city who doesn't know it.

I have no ethnicity. Deep in bone coils the apathy and flight of someone's non-heritage. But I am forgiven; in a world of paranoia, brown eyes are always trusted and the way my hair falls reminds them that I'm on their side. Even my name curls within itself, folded flat and dead before it's over. It's better this way; no allegiance, no responsibility.

From a curb in district nine, I see your star. It's hanging where you said it would be but I can't see god in it the way you promised.

On the other side of the world you told me about patch of green. You waxed flowers of every color, the sky I've only ever painted and the people, beautiful and dark, who will save me. I found it. In broken French and broken sandals I found it and the sun was setting and you had just left. So now we both know you won't be the one to save me.

With one foot in the slanting gutter I walk until the city circles and I'm back where I started. In a daydream I found you. I smiled and quoted your book, the part that said 'When we heard the guidance, we believed in it' and you looked at me in a way that scared me. A way that translated your face into thousands of alphabets, ancient and invented. And I knew none of them. Suddenly I'm illiterate to you. Suddenly I'm gone.

I'm with a man who's made of smoke and each strawberry ring that escapes my lips is dedicated to someone that I've laughed with.

With the intensity of archives on fire, I withdraw. You are still a body; a few hundred bones calcified and aging, a mind of words streaming like spider webs, blood you never shed, and muscles that cross in blinding precision, but you are not who you used to be. You bound to me in a way that's irreversible and now we're both stitching. Awkward and broken we pull at flesh to remove each other. We have scars now, like stickers ripped from wallpaper. The outline of a palm stains my shoulder, a thumb the size of yours in the crook of my elbow. Small, white fingerprints tattoo your neck.

I might be free. Over cobble stones with broken sandals I don't trip until I realize that a city where I loved is now part of me. I can get as far away from her as the modern map allows but the red and gold bangles that crowd my wrists are not to be taken off. They're a part of me too. Like blood spilled on a cobble stone, you will walk over us every day of your life.

cracking,  falling,  globe.

Author: Kiernan Norman
Date: 03/04/2020