#poetry that I wrote about my best friend

[littleblueteacup]

“I love you, dear dragon. Won’t you come sit by the fire with me?” - Me, possibly about to hurt some feelings

[snaggletoothedbastard]

Meat and Bones

“I wish I didn’t have bones,” he says.  “I wish I could just be meat.”

“That’s funny,” I say, “because I wish I could just be bones.  I could play my ribcage like a xylophone.”

Meat’s what you eat.  Or don’t eat. Depends.  Where does meat begin And where does gore end?  What if they’re the exact same thing? 

Bones can be bitten But can they be eaten?  Bones are picked out and thrown away For the dogs to chew Or taken by the tooth fairy Or left to stand as a makeshift monument To the dead flesh that once kept them hidden. 

Meat makes you strong.  You make muscles out of muscles Out of muscles. 

Bone broth Sounds like an insult Or something a creepy child would talk about In a horror movie.  "Bone broth. Red rum." It’s good for you, Apparently, But to get someone to eat it Might take some convincing.

Meat bleeds. If it’s fresh enough.  The freshest of flesh will leave evidence of its wounds,  Blood will stain mud.  Meat is soft, meat can be cut,  But if meat is allowed to heal The scars can be forgiven,  They can be hidden.  Meat can be pulled And squashed And twisted,  Meat can be carved,  Meat can be shaped. 

Bones can only take so much distortion Before they snap.  Bones clatter and crack And they click when you bend your knees And when you flex your fingers. 

When meat can be seen through the skin You get, “Well done! I’m impressed!  How long have you been working out?  Can you give me some tips?” It’s admired,  It’s desired. 

When bones can be seen through the skin You get, “Are you eating enough?  What diet are you on?  Can you give me some tips?” It’s met with equal parts Disgust and delight. 

Meat will decay But bones will stay,  Watching the consumption of their companion Until nothing is left.  Bones will leave their impression in the ground,  A shadow of what once was,  An epitaph for the body that once held it,  Now left alone.  A curse and a blessing it is to remain  A natural tombstone. 

“Well then, I’ll be meat and you’ll be bones,” he says.  “Meat and bones. That’s our new stage name.”

Meat and bones.  Opposites really, aren’t they?  But together they make a full body.  United as one.

[esoterichermetic]

(paula)

It’s been twelve years since I’ve set foot on this sacred ground The best days of my life were spent here Amounting, in total, to just about a year I walk up from the road, see you smoking a cigarette There in your truck, not a day has passed.

“Our son is in the box” shatters my halcyon The lid is the color of your eyes. “Do you wanna see him?” You tell me that you’ve got plans And our boy will be remembered I don’t want to see, I think it will break me But I’m so proud of you He got his eyes from you And his adoration of you from me

Cool Novembers in your treehouse, our hideaway Almost like That 70s Show Directed by Wes Anderson Written by Quentin Tarantino A little space heater in the corner Multi-colored throw rug on the floor Gods of chaos and creation reside here

I don’t remember the first time I made love But I remember holding you there on that rug Looking into your eyes And I’ve been lost since vessel adrift in a sea of cerulean Any illusion of grandiosity I had crumbled to ash “The neighbors complained, we had to tear it down” Repurposed lumber has the potential to create Or rot next to the pool

You invited me to swim one august “Which bikini looks better? Black or red?” I said black, you picked red Red looked better Water almost as soft as your touch, slowly rolling against my chest Pulse pounding in my eardrums While you kiss me Your hand on the back of my neck And in my shorts Mine on your cheek and hips

This is heaven

I found myself damned when once again Streams of reality came through The plastic sheeting pretending To be a sliding glass door “The house settled and the glass just broke one night. No one knew it was under that much stress” One must be aware by now Long term settling often leads to some kind of break

But metaphor was never my fortè So to drive the point home I broke my ring finger just before leaving.

Does life imitate art?

[the-writing-frog]

I Love You, I Think

I love you,

But not like that.

I want to be with you,

But not like that.

You make me feel so much,

It's hard to describe.

You make me feel

Safe. Wanted. Home. Loved.

I want to love you,

Give you this feeling too.

I want you to feel home,

Give you this feeling too.

I love you.

More than a friend,

Not like a lover,

I just love you.

I wish to be

The reason you smile.

I want to be

The reason you laugh.

I don't know how else

I'm supposed to say

I love you,

I'm home with you.

But I'll just keep saying,

"I love you,

I love you,

I love you."

[everysongineverykey]

what the fuck do you mean soul brother is about brian may. what do you MEAN freddie mercury wrote a song about brian harold may that went "he's my best friend, he's my champion, and he will rock you, rock you, rock you, cause he's the saviour of the universe, he can make you keep yourself alive, make you keep yourself alive, cause he's somebody, somebody you can love" what do you mean he just wrote that and then casually told brian may about it in the studio one day and was like surprise! i've written a song about you, but it needs your touch! break out that guitar! what do yuo mean they both wrote songs aimed at each other at least once but brian wrote so many for freddie he can't remember which one he was working on at the time. WHAT DO YOU MENA

[musings-of-the-void]

The wind in my hair feels like your hand

A caress repeated over and over

I miss you, sighs my soul

I miss you

Where you are so far away

I hope your wind will bear the impression of my fingertips

I love you, it would say

I love you

It kisses your cheeks as I wish to

I hope we are not long apart

~ella

[enbieace]

You are the light in the darkness You are able to make me laugh even when I’m breaking down You are one of the only reasons I fight through the day You are one of the reasons that I keep going You are why I am able to smile and laugh even when I’m in a bad mood You are always fun to be around You are amazing at comforting me when I’m upset I love you(platonically) but I could never tell you that I love you(platonically) Because I’m too scared that you don’t love me(platonically) and that you would thing that it’s weird that I love you(platonically) I would rather just not tell you Then tell you and you think it’s weird

[yououghtaknow]

feeling myself Actually move on is insane..... what do you Mean i don't want to cry every time i see her????

[rhaenys-queenofkhyrulzz]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Original Work Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Original Characters Additional Tags: Poetry, Childhood Friends, Growing Up, Growing Apart, Childhood Memories, Nostalgia Series: Part 2 of Poetry Summary:

A poem about nostalgic longing for what I once had with my estranged childhood best friend.

[stardstgf]

[literallyjustapebble]

Another one for my bbg, that bitch is still dyslexic so I sure as hell ain’t sending her this lol 🤪 On top of that I actively physically struggle to say I love you to people (irl and text) so yeahhhh that’s gonna be a no.

Anyway!!! Me and my best friend (wife 🥰) have known each other for 12 years but we haven’t been best friends, or even friends at all at some points, over that time. This is about how even though we knew each other we didn’t like know each other because we didn’t even know ourselves. And two years ago when we had finally found a sense of self we found each other again.

Also I wrote this at like 3am then immediately passed out so don’t come at me bro

TLDR I love her more than anything but we’re emotionally constipated so I’m putting it in a poem that she’ll never read. 🤪🤪🤪

[mielgf]

being home for the holidays is just like how many times can my mom trigger me in a day before i snap and get accused of ruining the holiday joy

[prettydeadprophet]

Sanctuary of Sisterhood

She is a fruit which kindness bears;

a garden of grace. My safe space,

the result of all my prayers.

Yet my sins do not efface,

due to the pain my heart declares:

let me go, I can be replaced!

Leave me, my soul is impaired.

But still, I'm held in your embrace,

eyes like oceans. Deap and aware

of the demons I alone chase.

Those who want to devour you stare,

so I guard the gate to your grace.

-prettydeadprophet 19/11/22

[stardustanddaffodils]

Do you ever read a poem and then realize you won’t be normal again

YES.

[foolishfern]

26/8/2022

[for-get-me-naught]

A Blurb

"That's my dream

To forget this feeling.

For now though

I'll probably keep shambling on

A structure of bones and sinew

Flesh rotting

Lungs burning

But a small glint in my eyes for something better."