poetry for one

[dokidango]

If you're feeling down today, just remember that Castiel loves humanity so by default he loves you. He would probably think you're a pretty good human.

[roxxoncorp]

[poetryforone]

[poetryforone]

- A Mother's Gift

[poetryforone]

"Who do you wanna be?"

They ask.

"Loved," I say

"Can't do until you are someone,"

They walk away

[poetryforone]

A story simply is The way bones crack The way flesh itches Healing from a sunburn The way heart beats In a chest longing To be understood To be forgiven By a stranger A millennia later

[poetryforone]

Why is it that

The stripes on a tiger's back

Look like camouflage from afar

Yet when you get up close

They resemble its claws

[poetryforone]

If I forget-

How much of me

Will there be left?

[poetryforone]

I write poetry

'cause I'm no good at ryme

And I live life

'cause I still got time

[poetryforone]

When Prometheus stole fire from the gods, Gave it to the first men he sculpted out of mud

Was it love of a father Or revenge of a son

[poetryforone]

During one of my lows I catch myself Thinking About me, aged fifteen I wonder when will I turn into her Light heart and brown hair

Maybe a couple more lines Around the eyes

[poetryforone]

A child lives inside me

She looks like the girl

In a worn out photograph

On my mother's mantelpiece

In the adult shaped world

She wants childish things:

Someone to blow on her skinned knee

Someone to take her hand when crossing the street

Someone to make her soup when she's feeling sick

Someone to kiss her hair before falling asleep

[poetryforone]

In a tiny dorm room

Kilometers away from home

The hum of a refrigerator

Lulls me to sleep 

[poetryforone]

You are laying on my perfectly made bed

Crumpling my crisp white sheets

Under the weight of your wine drunk body

And I let you

[poetryforone]

I sit on a tree stump In my grandma's garden A tree stump that used to be The tree I fell from as a kid

I miss the skinned knees And the thrill of the falling As I sit on a tree stump In my grandma's garden

[poetryforone]

I jokingly tell my therapist

That thousands of years ago

Before the Mesopotamian summer

My mom’s ancestors were gatherers

But I’m descended from the hunters