calgpoetry
calg poetry
writing about life, love, and loss; still learning to include laughter into that list formerly @chameleon-g
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3am thoughts
Whats up?
Nothing much.
(I'm just tired of crying alone in the dark,
at 3am wondering why it's so hard to want to be alive)
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I know he’s never going to call,
But I’m still here waiting by the phone.
- phone calls | calg
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karma is my boyfriend (i am single) karma is a god (low-key don't believe in god) karma is the breeze in my hair on the weekend (i've never had a good hair day) karma's a relaxing thought (i'm constantly anxious)
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(me january 2022) seriously though its time to pull my shit together
(me december 2022) seriously though its time to pull my shit together
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New Jersey
Waiting on a call,
New Jersey on the phone
Wondering when you’d say hello.
-calg
#writings#poetry#2022#love#twc#twcpoetry#inkstay#writerscreed#poetryriot#poeticstories#poetselixir#love poetry#personal
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my sadness follows me around like a ghost
all i have is myself
and a bed
filled with the demons in my head,
music in the background
of my melancholia,
undone by the loneliness
filling my chest
all my friends
are a million miles away
living a life i’ll miss out,
learning how to grow up
while i watch in pictures
and stories of bygones
i’m nostalgic of who i was
as carefree as she was,
wishing it’s how it used to be
before all this sadness
weighing down on me;
my eyes no longer shine
i'm tired of being who i am
my days are filled
with working until three in the morning;
the nights are not a reprieve,
that’s when all my mistakes
mock and laugh at me;
i wish for yellow flowers and green leaves
but all i see are the ghosts from all my grief.
-calg
#writtenconsiderations#inkstay#poeticstories#poetselixir#poetryriot#writerscreed#poetwhispers#writings#twcpoetry#personal#twc#poetryportal#savage-words#life#poetry#loss#2022
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hope grows a garden
hope has dirt under her fingers,
her pants muddy with soil,
as she tills the ground
and works the land
growing flowers
made from broken hearts
so i will water this garden
made with hope
from all the little things
that make life worth living for.
-calg
#personal#writings#2022#poetry#poem#inkstay#writerscreed#poetryriot#poeticstories#poetselixir#savage-words#writtenconsiderations#poetwhispers#poetryport#twcpoetry#poetryportal#life
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Should i make an instagram poetry account???
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i will plant seeds of hope
each time i am sad
and water it with the tears
that fall from my eyes,
that after all this rain,
i might have flowers
borne from all my hope
and all my pain.
planting hope || calg
#inkstay#writerscreed#poetryriot#poeticstories#poetselixir#writtenconsiderations#poetwhispers#poetryportal#2022#planting hope#life#personal
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on the days i want to die
i will make a list
of all the things
that make me feel alive,
of all the beautiful things
that make up life.
like iced coffee in the morning
and waking up to the sun shining
on a weekend morning.
like taylor swift songs
about falling in love
at your darkest,
at your most broken.
like warm hugs from my father
and comfort food cooked by mother,
like watching funny shows with my brother,
and spill the tea moments with my sisters.
like “how are you?” texts from my friends
sent through funny memes over the internet,
and setting up milktea dates
with my best friend.
like cute pictures of our dog
and poetry that make me cry
and romance books
that make me believe in love.
and all the green leaves and yellow flower days
i’m still wishing for.
and hopefully at the end of this poem,
i’d feel a little less
like wanting to die
and a little more
like being grateful i’m alive.
a list of all the things to live for || calg
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A Letter to the Little Me || An Apology to the Little Me
Dear Little Me,
I am sorry. I am sorry for the hurt the world has caused. At 24, you shouldn’t feel so tired, shouldn’t feel like waking up each day is a chore. You shouldn’t feel like you have to work yourself to the bone, just to feel loved, to feel you are something of worth.
Little me, I am sorry. I am sorry you are still the child, left at your high school’s hallway wondering why you were never enough despite graduating at the top of your class. I am sorry you are still brittle glass that breaks so easily with the smallest feedback because you were taught to be perfect and failure was to be anything but.
I am sorry that resilience was taught like a crown to wear upon your head, that being infallible was what being strong meant. I am sorry you were taught never to cry, to brush it off your shoulders and keep your head high. I am sorry you were taught to keep it inside, to never let them see the emotional bruises you tried so hard to hide.
I am sorry for the dreams you will never reach, and the different type of grief this will bring. I am sorry the picket fence may never be, at least not like this, not with all this baggage we carry. Because a child shouldn’t be subjected to the pain caused by all the wounds that never healed. Little me, I am sorry, because I am the wound that won’t seem to heal.
Little me, I am sorry. Because this letter is too long, too many things I am sorry for. No one wants a child hurt, and at 24, I am sorry I can’t protect you more. I am sorry because there are even things to be sorry for.
Little me, I am sorry. Because sometimes the world is cruel and hard and will not apologize for it, so in behalf of all the reasons why you are hurting, I am sorry. Because no one has ever told you they were sorry, and only now are you learning how “I’m sorry” feels.
How it feels like balm to an aching wound, like a crater-sized you is a step closer to being filled whole. Because “I’m sorry” sounds a lot like “I love you” and Little Me, you deserve the softness and grace that love brings, where you don’t have to carry the world’s weight upon your shoulders, where you can break down because it was never yours to shoulder.
How “I’m sorry” feels an awful lot like safety - a space to make mistakes, a place to rest your head, because you were never meant to be perfect. Little Me, it’s okay if you need a break. Little Me, here you are safe.
Little Me, there are still so many things I am learning. Like how to smile at the face in the mirror each morning, and how to walk a little more slowly. How to look at how green the leaves are on the trees I pass on the way to work, how their yellow flowers fall slowly down to earth. How to make iced coffee taste sweet because there are days where the world is bitter, but hey, at least I have iced coffee.
Little Me, I am still learning how to say sorry to the Me I used to be and the Me I will never be, but most especially to the Me that I am and the Me I will be. And with “I’m sorry” comes forgiveness, which, too, I am still learning - how to forgive myself for all that I am and all that I will never be. Because the greatest lesson I’m learning is that it is okay if at the end of the day, all I have to show for myself is Me. Scarred, tired, broken, but Me.
For all the reasons you are hurting, and all the things that are overwhelming, Little Me, I am sorry. And I love you. You are safe here. Little Me, it may not feel like it, and honestly, I’m not there yet, but Little Me, I think we’ll make it.
Sincerely,
Big Little Me
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Cross my heart, blame the wine
Blame it on the wine
Why I let you hold my hand,
Drunk on the energy
Fermenting that night
Blame it on the wine
Why I sat by your side,
Lost in the spirits
Bubbled in hindsight
Blame it on the wine
Why I danced you in moonlight,
Spiked by memories
Of our blurred lines
Blame it on the wine
Why I wished time would stop,
Blacked out on the high
Of pretending you were mine
Cross my heart,
Blame the wine
I could’ve loved you for a lifetime
If only I hadn’t sobered up.
-calg
#inkstay#writerscreed#poetryriot#poeticstories#poetselixir#writtenconsiderations#poetryportal#poetwhispers#twcpoetry#love#loss#personal#2022#cross my heart blame the wine
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when you were still here.
can we take it back to that day,
you promised me you’d stay,
can we take it back then
when you said you were okay.
the sun rose again
you made it through
another day.
there was no call at 5am
just silence from the other end
sent you so many messages,
each one left unread.
your mom tells me
you’re finally okay
in the city of golden streets
where there are no sorrow
no more tears.
can we take it back to that day,
where you write poetry that dream of dreams
can we take it back to then
when there was still another day.
the sun rose,
but for you,
there were no more days.
-calg
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do you miss me too?
I wonder if you miss me
when you see my face
in the crowded streets
or when the wind howls my name
across your ears.
I wonder if you miss me
before you sleep,
when you close your eyes
and dream of dreams.
I wonder if you miss me
throughout the day,
did I take up space
inside your brain.
I wonder if you miss me
like I miss you
because I still look back
and wish it was you.
#inkstay#writerscreed#poetryriot#poeticstories#poetselixir#writtenconsiderations#poetryportal#twcpoetry#poetwhispers#do you miss me too?#love#2022#loss#writings#poetry#poem#twc
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this love hurts
If I could love you,
I’d love you in all the ways that hurt
Because that’s all I know of love
And all I know is hurt.
If I could love you,
I’d love you like blisters on my hand
From writing you down in poetry
On white and black paper lines
If I could love you,
I’d love you in all the ways that hurt
Because that’s all I know of love
And the way I love you hurts.
If I could love you,
I’d love you like every sad goodbye
Because we’ve done this a million times before
And we’ve failed every single time.
If I could love you,
I’d love you in all the ways that hurt
Because that’s all I know of love
And the way you love me hurts.
If I could love you,
I’d love you in the softest goodbye
Because you never meant to break my heart
But we can’t keep crossing uncrossable lines
If I could love you,
I’d love you in all the ways that hurt
Because that’s all I know of love
And right now, everything hurts.
If I could love you,
I’d love you in the rear view looking back
Because I’m tired of tears marring my words,
And it’s time we finally said our last goodbye.
-calg
#inkstay#writtenconsiderations#writerscreed#poetryriot#poeticstories#poetselixir#poetwhispers#poetryportal#2021#writings#twc#this love hurts#love#personal
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red wine lies
i fall and fall,
every time,
down the same hole.
quit you like a smoker
quits smelling like smoke,
alcoholics anonymous sober,
told my friends
its been a while
since i’ve been hungover.
i’m not absolved
of any wrong;
walked down the same road
when i said to myself
“this is the last time,
won’t go back anymore” -
there i was
on the same corner stand,
looking through
the liquor store.
shopping through the window,
browsing the wine catalogue
my rose-colored glasses broke,
saw the red flags i didn’t see before.
with opened eyes
as i look through the photographs
i start to realize -
was the taste of white on my lips
really just red wine lies.
tried to turn back,
close the book,
run away as fast as i can,
but you keep me
with a chain
around my throat,
didn’t think the necklace memento
was my prison hold.
please, i’m begging you,
let me go,
i’d like to get out
of the cyclic hell hole.
-calg
#inkstay#writtenconsiderations#poetryriot#writerscreed#poeticstories#poetryportal#poetselixir#poetwhispers#twc#2021#writings#life#red wine lies#poetry#personal
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