Poems about person

She is attached to the couch
Like a swollen tomatoe;
Glued to the TV, supine and subservient.
Texting while while writing a generic fantasy novel, with the
Televison serving as an audio fireplace,
She believes she'll be famous despite
Lacking concentration, respect, and will.

O, call to the daycares; a baby is loose --
Neck fastened by an electronic noose.
America come and receive thy child;
Harbor a body sheltered from the wild;
And how could you expect such
Sofa fungus to survive? Well,
First, to save someone else, they
Must be alive.

She's sick of synthetic happiness,
Smoke that makes her smile.
She'll kiss you in the moment,
Thinking wow it's been a while
Since she has felt alive,
Or anything really.
She still didn't feel it with lips against hers,
Vodka and coffee (that's a thing, she learned. )
French toast at 3 am, let's drive around
Scream at the tops of our lungs
"Did you make it to the milky way to see the lights are faded? "
The colors are faded,
I'll watch her blood fade as it mixes with hot water
Swirls around the drain.
She's done telling me that the red won't change a thing
Because our breath won't change a thing,
And the drinks won't change our heads
And the lips won't fix my missing you
I don't want to be here,
But where.
Run around the car three times at a red light,
Try out listening to that new band.
Go to a club, wear something tight.
Drink more, stumble, laugh,
Kiss someone you don't have feelings for.
Thank someone for saying you're pretty,
Smoke another cigar. Inhale through your nose,
Smile big in pictures,
Smile big at people who smile big at you.
Slow dance drunk in the common room,
Crack your back, love, call him up,
Throw things. This isn't a poem.
It's a list.
Of what
Has not
Once
Made me feel okay again.
Here is a list of
What makes me feel
At all:
You.

He caressed my neck and back
As I dug my nails into my forearm.
I pushed his hand off my waist,
Sucking in my stomach as I rolled over.
Stained rain falling sideways,
Quietly,
But he could hear every change in breath and heartbeat
In between his snores and spasms.
He pulled into me, whispering "I love you, i love you"
Into my ear.
But I kept pushing myself off the edge of the bed,
Because I had finally found my person,
But I hated who I was.

Dear person I hate,
You must have done something horrible if I hate you because there aren't many I hate.
I may be annoyed at you right now and hate you but I never hate someone for the rest of my life
I always forgive people. It is a flaw I have.
You only live once so why hold a grudge.
But you must work with me. If I turn away at first let me cool down
Time will settle things
I know that. And if I truly don't forgive you
That means you have screwed up because as much as I try to keep people in my life
If I see it won't work i will stop chasing.

So dear person I hate. Just give me time. I'll come around.

Sincerely,
Arabella

My eyes still burn from the tears of gasoline you poured down on me.

How could someone who have given you so much joy every day could suddenly make you want to withdraw them out of your life without any sort of sirens singing around? When our two worlds collided, they were comprised of a confetti of a hundred different things, some were vibrant reds and others atrocious yellows.

From an outrageous exchange of IM's, being picky with certain kinds of food, talking about weird teachers, sharing an umbrella when the sun's out and when the skies throw a fit at us, and you being gaga over your bizarre fantasies that I will never understand.

The things that should have been disturbing to me, didn't even matter. Because it was you. You were the one who mattered.

Do you remember our first conversation? *

You probably don't. But, I still do. I was the one who approached you first. But then again as time flew by, I'm always the one approaching you first. But I never minded. I never did because I've always thought that it was a thing so superficial and minor that it should not have even been a thing. �Cause who the fucking hell cares if I talked to you first? All I wanted was to talk with you anyway. I thought it wouldn't matter to us in the coming years.

There were those days when all I wanted to do was snuggle up close to my laptop screen and talk to you nonstop about anything left on the shelves to pick at. I'd try to tell you things of my own but you'd always manage to twist it around making every thing else about you a little so suddenly. That never failed to leave me feeling all confused and dubious, though. But I forced myself to believe that I just didn't know how to converse as riveting as you are.

A handful of people around would tell me that I deserved better. That being with you, changed how I spoke and acted in an unpleasant way. But I thought to myself, “Why would I think that? You are so important to me. I would never. "

True. Because hey, you mattered to me. But, why did it seem like I never did, even at the faintest bit, to you? What was the matter with me? Was I completely psycho for being just so comfortable with you whenever we're talking that I even cuss, call you names and point your flaws out? I never meant every offensive thing that got to my head, though. I just crave for your attention all the time. But you still liked me around. You never showed that you even cared about me acting “psychotically”. You probably even liked me being clingy and needy like the girlfriend you never had.

But, this time... I'll have to do something for myself. I'd have to stop thinking about what is good for you or for the both of us. I have to let go. I have to give up on the future that we picture ourselves embracing together. You have to let yourself be, and in order to do that, you have to leave me out of it. You wouldn't want me sticking around. I couldn't stand it too, trust me.

You care about yourself more than anyone. I'm not regarding this in a standalone paragraph because it is the perceivable truth. It is in fact a sad truth but, it isn't sad for you. You should be happy that you are being well-taken cared of. By yourself. I'll give you a pat on the back for that.

Giving up on someone does not solely entitle the fact that you are letting go of him or her—or for the best of times, in that matter. Giving up on someone also means that you are untying the chains that sulked the bond between the two of you, and finally, becoming free.

There was an old person of Wick,
Who said, 'Tick-a-Tick, Tick-a-Tick;
Chickabee, Chickabaw, '
And he said nothing more,
That laconic old person of Wick.

I have never lost a game of chance. As a newborn I taught toddlers to walk. My license requires no photograph. I see the satellites before they see me. When I enter a room I receive a standing ovation. I can manifest inside jokes with strangers. The old dogs learn tricks from me. God gave me the spare key to the gates of heaven. I set the pigs aflight. When I arrive in Rome they do as I do. I am recognized as a national treasure. I am the most interesting person in the world.

You call my name
I look over
You cut me open
I bleed
You shoot me
I'll die
I'm just like you
Need not be afraid
I may look different
I may be different
But we are still the sam
I walk with crutches
And yet you stare
My head is bald
Yet you scorn
I've been through heaven and hell
Yet I am some delicate thing
Push me down
Beat me up
Treat me like an equal
I don't need to be babied
I don't need your help
I am a person
Yet you discriminate and judge
Don't treat me any different
Because I have cancer