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Best Poems Written by Heather Nickels

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Details | Heather Nickels Poem

Speak

A smile crawls onto my face.
What a strange feeling to be happy. 
I spot him within the crowded mass of zombies.
He flashes a smirk my way.
My cheeks flare a vibrant pink.
I can feel the warmth collecting.
Butterflies fly swiftly in the pit of my stomach.
The space between us becomes smaller,
 as he walks toward me.
His sandy blonde hair making me swoon.
I feel his hands around my waist pulling me in.
What a strange feeling to be happy.
I feel his radiant smile beaming down on me.
His cheeks became a pale rose,
as I turned to face him.
He encases his hand in mine
 as we walk down the hallway
How did I get so lucky?
A month goes by and everything changes.
The mood swings suddenly.
Why is this happening?
Every day is a battle,
everyday is one step closer,
to a small victory or a catastrophic defeat.
His mouth spews venom.
He pierces my already broken heart,
with a look of pure disgust.
There is no longer,
any compassion in his 
dark eyes.
Was there ever any? 
I space out thinking about what used to be.
“Babe”
I recoil at the names he used to call me.
I miss it. 
I wish I didn’t,
but who am I kidding.
I should’ve never gotten involved.
But what happened?
What did I do?
He stopped talking to me,
and showing me affection
without warning. 
I do not like this new modified version of myself.
I’m so confused all the time.
I could sleep forever.
Life’s supposed to be filled with rainbows.
Mine is filled with saturated gray skies.
My emotions are swirled inside my head,
knotted together like headphones in a pocket.
I shouldn’t feel this way, but I do.
You can’t make me feel what I need to feel.
Only he can.
This dark cloud needs to be lifted off my shoulders,
but with every breathe it becomes more cumbersome.
Isolation does not work.
I then have to manage my thoughts on my own.
That’s the most terrifying part.
My hands tremble when I walk towards him.
My knobby knees wobble wildly.
Deep breaths, you can do this.
He whispers,
but the sounds are magnified into my ears.
He is screeching,
I know it. 
Every mindless drone in the dull hallway,
is looking at me now. 
He is screeching,
I know it. 
The voices inside my head roar telling me to stop making a scene.
I clutch my head inside my hands,
trying to get the madness to seize for a few moments.
I’ve failed, the voices continue their violent outcries.
The reverberation from the obnoxiously loud screams,
makes me lose my balance.
I crash against the brick wall,
losing the battle once more.

Copyright © Heather Nickels | Year Posted 2016



Details | Heather Nickels Poem

I'M Sorry

I’m stuck.
My mouth tries to speak my thoughts.
My creative process is buried in the muck. 
My tongue is in tangled up knots.
I long so terribly to tell you how I feel.
Although, every time I try, the words become deserted.
If the words finally do come out, it will feel too real.
These discombobulated feelings will leave us disconcerted.

I want to make you happy.
But if I do that, I’m doing a disservice to myself.
We don’t feel the same way, sadly.
Keeping these emotions bottled up inside can’t be good for my already deteriorating mental health.
If these words somehow do manage to spill out,
your new found happiness will evaporate.
I’ve reworded this poem to you more times than I can count.
I wish this jumbled up mess in my polluted head would translate.

You see me as this beautiful light
But you don't know that I’m dying inside.
You keep trying to “fix me”, but can't you see I'm just a match refusing to ignite?
Although you think you are helping, you're just encouraging the landslide.
I hope you know this is not your fault.
This constant raging hurricane in my head isn't because of you.
You the were the first to unlock my heart encased in the bolted shut vault.
But I need you to know I can't continue our little pas de deux.


We were like the tides,
constantly pushing and hauling.
What we wanted out of the relationship is where it divides.
I was so busy fighting for emotional support, I didn't even notice you were falling.
There were days where you were the sun.  
My mood increased dramatically when I was in your presence.
Although other days you were like a cloudy day, making me feel heavy and overrun.
Those days made me stressed and distressed waiting for your next move.

I feel horrible.
I can no longer reciprocate the emotions you're showing.
The sparkle in your eyes when you look at me is adorable.
Your love for me is overflowing,
and I am drowning in the waves.
Your bright colors that I once loved so dearly, have faded into a saturated gray.
This relationship is digging our own graves.

You’ve laid your heart on the line,
and I’ve just swallowed it hole.
The lovely words replaying over and over in my head “All I want in my life is to be able to call you mine.”

I’m a thief in the night and your heart is what I stole.
I was afraid that’d you’d break me, but oh how the tables have turned.
I want you to know though, I really did care about you greatly.
Never get involved with anyone is my lesson learned.
I know I haven’t shone it lately.

Copyright © Heather Nickels | Year Posted 2016

Details | Heather Nickels Poem

Lights

A small 6 year old waddles to the dressing room.
Her hair pulled back into a neat ballet bun.
Tugging violently on the black laces of her tap shoes as an attempt to tie them.
She got a hold of a tube of vibrant ruby red lipstick,
smearing it all over her small,chubby, face.
She puts on her white dress with red polka-dots slowly trying not to rip it.
Also her floppy bow larger than her head.
Lead to the stage hand in hand with her classmates,
she is astonished, the stage is illuminated with lights of all different colors.
She smiled widely at the thought that she wouldn’t be leaving for a while,
 this felt like home to her.

Copyright © Heather Nickels | Year Posted 2016

Details | Heather Nickels Poem

Sweet Escape

Bobbing my head.
Tapping my foot.
Swaying my head.
Mouthing out lyrics.
Humming melodies.
Seeming to enjoy top 40 pop hits.

Something rips out the headphone,
previously lodged into my ear. 
Ow.
I look up,
Brad standing above me.
Headphone in his hand.
Villainous grin across his face.
A weird look glides my face.
His headphone gets shoved in my ear.

As my mind realizes the sudden assault,
the sound engulfs me.
Swallows me whole.
Transports me to a place I’ve never been.
Encased in a bubble.
Encompassed in a world,
I didn’t  know existed.

My mind can’t register anything,
besides the music.
Completely oblivious to the outside world.
Symphonies of sound,
explode in my ears.
I close my eyes.
Taking in the music,
focusing on the lyrics.

Rocking back and forth.
A smile creeping onto my face.
The song slowly comes to an end.
The artificial world I created,
disintegrated before my ears.
The temporary escape,
was deceased.
Like a family member you didn’t know too well.
You never got to fully understand them,
till it’s too late.

“Did you like it?
The bands called Panic! At The Disco,”
Brad inquests.
I nod my head affirmatively.
He smirks,
as he places the metallic cd player onto my bed.
He exits the room.

I shove the headphones,
quickly into my ears.
Starting the cd again,
letting it soak into my mind.
Surprisingly finding utmost pleasure,
in something so simplistic.

I focus more into the lyrics, 
not necessarily knowing the meaning.
While I listen,
I  escape.
Tears prick my cheeks.
Empathizing with the emotion and distress in Brendon’s voice.

Copyright © Heather Nickels | Year Posted 2016

Details | Heather Nickels Poem

Trapped In a Flawed System

Every day monotonous, never changing.
 My creativity feels like it has been drained from me. 
I grasp for the words to express my thoughts, but end up with a scratchy sore throat.
My writing used to flow easily.
Now it feels as if my thoughts are honey refusing to drip. 
Everything always feels so far away and out of reach.
 My life is running away without me.
 Drifting through every class, not caring enough to ask my questions. 
I’d give up but then I’d lose my 4.0 which is socially unacceptable. 
How sad is it that I have to stress out and have anxiety attacks over a number.
 I am defined a number.
 It doesn’t matter about my mental health as long as I write the paper.

Copyright © Heather Nickels | Year Posted 2016



Details | Heather Nickels Poem

Without You

“It's getting to the point where 
I am no fun anymore, 
I am sorry.
Sometimes it hurts so badly 
I must cry out loud, 
' I am lonely.'
 I am yours,
 you are mine,
 you are what you are, 
you make it hard.”-
David Crosby
Looking in the mirror, 
I am faced by a stranger.
This is not me.
I am not the same without you.
I am unrecognizable
without you by my side.
 I am naked and exposed.
You left me alone.
I miss the feeling of the rough calluses of your hand against my skin.
In the midnight dark I see the silhouette that used to belong to you. 
I keep hearing your gruff voice, 
and I start to whimper and moan.
I will never hear your jokes,
or laugh again.
I will never again see you smile.

Copyright © Heather Nickels | Year Posted 2016

Details | Heather Nickels Poem

You

Every time you speak,
all that comes from your mouth is venom.
Degrading and humiliating to all who share themselves to you.
All that’s left is a ghost that has replaced the old you.
You. 
You are a wicked rose, beautiful until you get pricked by your thorns.
Every time you speak to me I feel the room swallowing me whole.
Gasping for air.
Gasping to grasp words to fire back at you like a war.
You took your aim and shot me for the last time.

Copyright © Heather Nickels | Year Posted 2016


Book: Shattered Sighs