Poems
I\'m trying to write freely,
Without criticism,
and ive wrote some poems im happy with,
but I worry about the simplicity of my poems,
But im expressing myself,
So I guess its okay, right?
A hum
I woke up this morning with a hum in mind,
It was a powerful note, a song I couldn’t quite remember,
And I wonder where it came from.
Reflection
My heart feels a bit heavy,
And my stomach a bit uneasy
I think of you often,
I wonder if you think of me.
I don’t think you do.
Not of a lack of kindness or care,
But because you genuinely haven’t.
When I saw you last,
You looked genuinely happy,
And I’m happy for you,
But it’s sad that I was the problem in your life?
360
I asked you questions,
I know the answers,
But I wanted to try see if my intuition was wrong
And it wasn’t
You answered everything calmy and firmly
There\'s no wobble in your voice
Or hint that you’ll change your mind
But I continue questioning
You don’t see the point,
You think we’re going around in circles
And we are
But I’m trying to break that circle
Or rather I want you to break that circle
To give me something, that tells me you feel differently
That everything is a mistake and we can fix it, one way or another
unkind
I miss the old you,
You haven’t changed,
Your clothes, your hair and your voice are the same
But now I see a version of you, the one you present to the world
Before I saw you,
unfiltered and open
You’re still so kind, but you’re now kind to me, in the way you’re kind to everyone
And it feels so unkind
My heart hurts from your politeness
I want genuineness, but you’ve put up a shield
And I know it’s to protect us both
But it hurts
Angel
I was once your angel
You would call me it everyday
It replaced my name
And I liked it
I felt that I was your angel
But I’m now back on earth,
My wings have been plucked and discarded
And I’m the same as everyone else
I long to be back in the sky
Writing freely feels nice
Simple and calm and nice
And it feels so much easier than journaling
From one topic to the next
In a matter of sentences
It does not compromise meaning or substance
But avoids over explanation, rumination or perfectionism
And my words, have meaning to me
Every sentence I write, I know what it means because I wrote it
There\'s symbolisms in the unsaid, in the already known
I trust in myself to fill in the details
And if this poem is read, it will be interpreted differently
And I think that is only positive
The world, and in this case poems are a reflection of oneself