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Best Poems Written by Amber Guillory

Below are the all-time best Amber Guillory poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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The Afterthought

I smile with knowing and anguish. 
I live and remember in the after thought.
All the things I could have done.
Everyone I could have been.
I live in the afterthought. 

And everything from before seems so much sweeter. 
And appreciation runs abound. 
And I cherish things I ignored or accepted as mine. 
But they're not mine anymore.

And I mourn for my past self.
For her hopes. Her vision. Her optimism. 
I can't bear to tell her that they can never be.

So I let her continue to dream in the before. 
And she's happy. She's hopeful.
And I will forever let her be. 
And I will live in the after thought.

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Ugly Pain

Some pain is beautiful
But not this pain.
This pain is ugly
Bleak bone blanched white.

Have you ever endured an ugly Pain?
It has no recompense
And comes with no redemption
It is a loop that continuously eats it's tail

It's not pretty
But it will change you
And you will be changed
Because ugly Pain is ugly
But ugly Pain is fierce

And the ugly Pain has made me strong
But It has also made me weak.

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I Want To Run

I ran for a long time. 
And from alot of different things. 
And you can be running and not even know your running. 

My whole life was a sprint away from pain. 
My family called me so strong.
They applauded my solidity. My stability. My reliability. 
She'll never let us down. It's a little awkward now.

Because I did let them down.
And I'm not strong. 
But I am fast. And I know how to run. And I know how to hide things away in a special folder.
 For later or never. 
But mostly never.

I haven't faced the things I'm afraid of. 
Spent 22 years hiding. 
Never daring to open those folders because frankly my memory of them was gone.

But now they're open. 
And I see myself again. 
And I've stopped running.
And I felt my pain.
And I will continue to feel it 
And it's gonna hurt.
Deeply.
Bring it on.

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Matters of the Heart

I have to teach my heart not to pine for things it cannot have.
I will be content and no longer toil and pine for love.
Love.
Something that never found me, but in many ways moves me at my core.

Love
My greatest hope since childhood. 
It is a candle burning ever so slightly, but I must lick my fingertips and pinch the flame.
And my heart yearns for it, but I must teach my heart to let go.
It must die and my heart must go on without it. 
And my mind must meddle with the grief of letting it die. 

But my heart will move on. 
And I will be content.
I must tell my heart to be content and no longer toil and pine for love.