Poems about spent


№ 1183025

Spent those nights driving by myself.

Every single sleepless night I have had without you
Is like a withdraw from the dreams in which I saw you
It's true, I wish I fell asleep more often
So I could have that dream where you soften the blow that my fucking life has dealt me
But in reality the pain I feel only appeared when you left me
I can't begin to forgive myself for making you resent me

I used to laugh at your superstitions; the way you'd hope over cracks in lanes
How ironic is it now that I won't walk over three drains?
I don't need any more bad luck
It ran out the day you did too
No matter how much I ran after, there was no way I was reaching you

Nostalgia only shows me good times
Though i choose to ignore the bad
My stubbornness made me leave you go
Though i wish i never had
My chest feels like its bleeding
Darling i am begging, i am pleading

Who am i kidding, i don't want my old life back.

driving,  nights,  spent.

Author: Drop Alice
Date: 13/03/2020

№ 1179643

Spent sadness.

I have written many sad poems.
I have run out of sadness.
I spent it all desperately.
Like a drunkard on another shot of whiskey.

I've spent all my sadness. Now only happiness remains.

I walked on a rainy muddy road this morning.
I nearly cried from sadness.
Then a woman with a baby stopped for me.
I got in at the back and just then, I saw it.
It looked at me and struggled successfully to sit next to me.
It held my cold hand and gave me all its warmth.

I realized I couldn't be sad. Happiness and warmth filled my heart.

I will sit at my house tonight.
Open that coconut whiskey and dance to any song on my TV.
I will take time looking through every room and drink to it.
I will text my best friend and tell her I love her.
I will celebrate this newly found happiness.

I've run out of reasons to be sad, now I will look for happiness.

sadness,  spent.

Author: Brenda Mukisa
Date: 10/03/2020

№ 1171744


I am left
With out want
Or passion.

... spent...

Yet when lifetimes
But, just moments,

I was the eye,
Of a malestrom,
Caught between,
The fall of water
From the shower's head
And the waterfall
Of lust,

Converted into love...

As hips thrust
And receded,
In waves, tidal
I became...
But a delta,
For the rushing tides
And we met,
As liquid.

sensual,  spent.

Author: betterdays
Date: 03/03/2020

№ 1160201

Axolotl, or, some nights are best spent wandering around trying to decide if we should vomit into a puddle

After julio cortazar*

My bourbon

I drink it at a bar, alone

Its translucent honey-color is an axolotl's eye
Looking into me

And, like a cortazar story,
Little by little,
My bourbon axolotl steals my body,
Its soul stealing through my eyes to evict me from this
Honestly-not-that-well-kept apart

And i feel my bourbon axolotl eye replacing me
As i am drawn out into its glass prison

And i stare up as my bourbon turns me
Gently in my glass
As my bourbon raises me to its lips
Sips me
No longer winces
Or even registers any emotion on a calm-liquid-surface face
Eyes wet and flat and blank as a tumbler two fingers deep

And i don't know where i'm going or what i'm becoming but
This feeling of spiraling and draining and emptying
Is everything that i know

And there is less and less of me as bourbon stares down
And silently consumes me
And i am disappearing
And i am gone

And bourbon stands,
Calm, but not serene,
And bourbon walks to my car, each step carefully measured,
And bourbon drives my car to my apartment
And bourbon sleeps in my bed and goes to my job and collects my paycheck
And bourbon falls into habit and routine
And bourbon feels my

But having a body, a life, is better than being trapped in bottles and glasses
It's probably better, anyway

And bourbon won't go back, won't trade flesh back for silica,
Will keep living unfeeling behind glass-eye walls until skin and sinew unknit

And bourbon is so alien and content that
It never wonders if there is anything more,
Never despairs for its ending road,
Treasures every drop

Bourbon calls this body, this life
Top shelf

Bourbon knows that shit ain't cheap

best,  decide,  nights,  puddle,  spent,  wandering.

Author: anonymous
Date: 21/02/2020

№ 1150183

999 nights, spent upside down

Summer days and purple haze, three months that I've spent in a possibly prescription drug-addled
Dazed and confused and this shit has left me feeling broken and used
Cut up, messed up, torn up all about it while my hair grows to my chin
Nothing to do but think of me and you while I continue to sin

nights,  spent,  upside.

Author: Pigeon
Date: 12/02/2020

№ 1142639

The last night spent wandering

I don't keep a four leaf clover
No rabbits foot in my pocket
Ain't never dropped a coin in a well more over

Yeah I once held onto a horse shoe just in case
Though it Never did me any good
But that night i fell in love I saw you in your lace

Right then I was close to giving up
Because the only trouble was
I knew I'd be gone by the time the sun come up

While I tried to and wondered how to stay
I didn't sleep much that night
Trouble is and always was, had to be on my way

These last hundreds of miles I rode lost
As I saw you playing games on my soul never mind my heart
Thought If I could I would come back at all costs

But my passing light in night
I'm damned to move along
Just in hopes I will not ruin something that could be right

Months of long days and hours I've worked just to move on
But my girl in lace, please know I never did

I never moved on

night,  spent,  wandering.

Author: Elliott Crass
Date: 05/02/2020

№ 1141870

Spent. - Day 7

I spend all my time with my head in a textbook
My pencil on paper
My mind in the sky
I spend all my time
Countless hours of the night
Using pages of questions
To wipe the tears that I cry

Those tears turn to blood
As the paper cuts sting
As the tongues of the books laugh and jeer
I spend all my time
Cleaning up the mess
That my brain left when it disappeared

day,  spent.

Author: Cameron Godfrey
Date: 05/02/2020

№ 1129764

Spent Moonlight, Currency of the Sun

To think, a thousand worlds can collapse upon me in yet another day dream,
I believe I've imagined you so many times,
A mere silhouette, dancing and crying upon countless backdrops,
You have become an ever constant inspiration,
A butterfly, much more like a moth,
Eating away at the sheets that keep an unimportant sanity intact,
Will I ever come back to you?
A clock can say an infinite many things, and it can tell so many more,
So I listen, and your memories that I may barely touch,
Will always be in words touching a grey scale sunset,
The value in that, is however a thought makes it out to be,
Upon your dreams, I hope a moonlit sky might leave many footsteps,
So seeing, where they went, you'll see where they came from and where they got,
Follow dancing feet, and sing with lines that give root to ancient trees,
And beautiful fruit that make us all forget about the rest,
Will keep us in remembrance of you.

currency,  moonlight,  spent,  sun.

Author: Tristan Claude
Date: 25/01/2020