Poetry on Odyssey: My Best Works
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Poetry on Odyssey: My Best Works

Hopefully someone, somewhere will get something out of this.

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roses and a book
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Hello friends, welcome to the most intimate part of me: my poetry. Here lies my best poems, the ones that express my emotions and hardships the most. Hopefully someone, somewhere will get something out of this.

Anxiety is a Hand

There's a hand wrapped around my neck, yet to squeeze,

but I know that it is coming from deep inside of me.
It's threatening to tighten, to close away my air,
shutting my eyes firmly as I try not to care.
The anticipation of it keeps me on my toes,
Where it suddenly came from? Nobody knows.
The feeling of anxiousness and close proximity takes me down under,

racking my head for ways to calm down, still so full of wonder.
Out of nowhere the hand begins to clasp around my neck,
tears streaming down my face because I'm unable to keep my feelings in check. The balloon within starts expanding as it fills up my entire being,
feeling so crowded and helpless, a blank page in my mind is all I'm seeing.

The Dress

Confidence became scraped, became abused.
And then came the splotches of brown and blue, forming every bruise.
Each risqué comment is a strike to the heart,
Building and building until I fall apart.
I hide beneath baggy clothes,
desperately trying to erase what everybody knows.
Ivory skin with bumps and curves,
Forgetting all that I deserve.
I became eye candy, not worth anything more,
Tears running down my face as I ask, "What am I good for?"
The mirrors up my skirt, the click of the camera as I walk by,
The iPad on my backside and a hand grazing my thigh.
The lump forming in my throat as I can't help but cry.
Each piling on top as I ask God why.
With every dress I buy comes shame,
The clothing that takes my figure and puts it in a frame.
It highlights my assets and makes me feel good,
but as I look in the mirror, I ponder on buying the dress and how I could.
It would put on display what people only see when they look at me,
holding me captive, never allowing me to be free.
so I throw the dress in my closet and I continue to hide,
hoping people will finally notice me for everything that's on the inside.

Slowly Erased

and I start the process as I slowly erase every part of you from my life—

from every text message you've ever sent me to every photo on my phone.

earrings left in my jewelry box, untouched,

items collecting dust beneath my bed.

I close my eyes and I try to shut you out.

I try to shut out every moment you made me smile,

i try to shut out every moment you made me feel the slightest bit alive or

the slightest bit h a p p y.

I try to ignore the pang in my heart at the very sound of your name

or the sound of a song playing on the radio that somehow ties back to you.

because even though i haven't seen you in days,

i see you everywhere i go.

i see you on the couch at the coffee shop we used to go to

i see you in my bed in my room

i see you in the simplest things

and i see you in the simplest of places.

i close my eyes and i try to make you go away.

i try to forget the way you made me feel.

because even though my head knows all the bad,

my heart wants to focus on all the good.

and even though we weren't meant to me,

and even though we're better off apart,

i can't deny the fact that you'll always be in my h e a r t.


Fire


you are my fire.
you spread heat through me as
I breathe in your oxygen.
you are my fuel
that causes the fire to burn brighter.

yet even as you stir up each flame,
you're able to extinguish it
the moment I melt into your arms—
yet bring it back to life the moment
my lips find yours.

perhaps the falling was the spark
that brought each flame to life

perhaps the aftermath;
the being—
was the smoldered fire,
calm, yet radiating heat,
quiet, with potential to roar again

The Garden

A garden sprouted in her heart and she grew,

each petal splashed with color, color without you.

Her leaves were her wings and she

learned how to fly,

she was stunted when she said hello, yet

soared when she said goodbye.

The Storm Cloud

Falling for you was like a storm cloud. Rain filled the soft cotton, refusing to spill, refusing to give in. It continued to build and build until one day, it burst.

And as it burst, drops fell from the sky unforgivingly; endlessly. It was a force unable to be stopped. It was a force unable to be broken.

Rain surrounded me, drops brushing against my skin the same way your fingers have so many times before. It nourished me, it brought me to life.

And as I stood there with my eyes closed so tight, I cried out into the night.

"Please hold me tight and never let me go, for you are the water and you help me grow."

The Tide

It washes over me in the way the tide washes over my toes.
The pit in my stomach feels endless, feels heavy.
And in my throat, I feel stopped up.
I can't breathe it in. I can't digest it.
It's like putting glasses on for the first time and finally being able to see clearly. But when I look in the mirror, I don't like the way I look. I worry others won't like the way it looks, either.
So I take the glasses off and I hide them.
And even though they're out of sight, the throbbing in my chest still remains.
The unsettlement in my stomach doesn't lift.
I push it down until one day, I become the glasses.
I hide myself.

Clone

Full of fear, full of doubt,

Unwanted feelings with no way out.

You write "Not good enough" on the mirror, letting it seep into your brain,

You're feeling adequate, you're going insane.

You base your value off what others think and how others view you,

Every negative comment sticking to you like glue.

Now every time you look in the mirror, that's all you see,

You don't listen to those who tell you over and over again that they disagree.

You don't know your true worth.

You don't know how beautiful you really are.

Even with every bump on your skin and even with all your scars.

You're beautiful when your hair is a mess, and when your makeup isn't on,

However, you don't feel that way. All you want is to be another one of society's spawns.

Maybe then they'll leave you alone,

but only if you're one of Barbie's clones.



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This article has not been reviewed by Odyssey HQ and solely reflects the ideas and opinions of the creator.
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