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Best Poems Written by Gabby True

Below are the all-time best Gabby True poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Gabby True Poem

Get up

Get up-
Why can’t I move?
I just need to get up-
Why can’t I get up?
My stomach’s churning-
Am I hungry or nauseous?
Either way I need to eat-
What do I want to eat?
Nothing, I’d just throw it all up and be empty again-
Empty, empty, empty, why do I feel empty?
Wait, did anyone text me?
Nope, my phone’s empty, too-
Where is everyone?
Check Life360-
What is everyone doing?
Why hasn’t anyone texted me?
Do they not like me anymore?
What if they’re tired of me?
What if they hate me?
All my friends hate me.
They won’t reach out because they don’t want to.
I should kill myself.
They wouldn’t notice.
They don’t miss my absence now.
They won’t miss my absence at all.
They wouldn’t care.
Who would really care?
I can’t keep doing this.
There is something wrong with me.
I want to kill myself.
I’m so tired. So tired, so tired, so tired,
And I don’t have the energy to keep going, keep going, keep going.
Keep living.
How am I supposed to keep living if I can’t even get up?
Get up.
Get up.
Get up.
I can’t get up.
Why can’t I get up?
How am I supposed to kill myself if I can’t even get up?
Get up.
Get up.
Get up.

Details | Gabby True Poem

Ode to HY

Sunshine dappled hazel eyes,
Crinkling with her smiles,
And locks like a candle flame flickering.

Hozier shirts and long, flowing skirts,
Gold jewelry and rings on her fingers,
Masterpieces painted over her nails.

She’s sunflowers and pine trees,
Fingers plucking guitar strings,
The cusp of winter and spring.

She’s curiosity and intelligence,
Whimsy personified,
Folk songs and poetry.

I wonder if she knows that
I wish I could see the world through her eyes,
Understand the world through her mind.

I wonder if she knows that
I wish she could see herself through my eyes,
Understand herself through my mind.

Details | Gabby True Poem

Forbidden Fruit

Forbidden fruit, 
I cannot resist you.
I reach for you,
but shouldn't touch.
Let me trace my fingers over
Your skin, every inch.
Let me take just one bite,
I know you'll taste so sweet,
but you'll rot my teeth
and leave me starving.

Details | Gabby True Poem

Silly Hypotheticals

“Would you rather be an apple or an orange?”

An orange:
To be chipped at,
Peeled away piece by piece
To be ripped open,
Every fragment that makes up your whole
Raw and exposed,
Residual strands deliberately stripped away,
And to still be loved,
Not in spite of the labor,
But because of it.

“An apple because oranges have too many strings attached.”

Details | Gabby True Poem

The Idea of You

I am in love with the idea of
You- the vessel in which I project my dreams, my desires, my design, though
It could never compare to the beauty of your originality, the perfection of
Your natural self, raw and flawed and messy as it may be.

I find beauty in the most mundane parts of
You- the way your nose wrinkles when you laugh.
Every freckle, every stray piece of hair, every birthmark,
Your stance and pose, your undeniable presence- I could sense you anywhere.

I find fleeting joy in my fantasies of
You- in simplicities of holding your hand, laughing with you, eating dinner
In the home that we built in my mind,
Yours of which I am never even a visitor.

I am in love with the idea of
You- but you are not an idea, a projection, a presence, a fantasy, 
A blank canvas for me to paint, a block of marble for me to shape,
You were never mine in the first place.

Details | Gabby True Poem

The Idea of You Reprise

I have grown tired of the worship of
You- can you lose faith in a god that you created?
I used to pray and beg and grovel for just a sliver of
Your grace, but my knees are bloodied and bruised, and my words now fail me.

I have grown weary of the existence of
You- I don’t look for you in every room anymore, don’t feel your presence
But sometimes I jump when I see the familiar silhouette in
Your shape, and every time, I’m relieved when it’s not you.

I have grown bored of the image of
You- I used to frame portraits and photos of you on the walls
Like you were a priceless work of art, but now
Your pictures collect dust in the corner of an abandoned home.

I am no longer in love with the idea of
You- I am an artist without a muse, a dog without an owner,
A widow grieving a spouse who never died. I never lost you because
You were never mine in the first place.

Details | Gabby True Poem

Autumn

The eruption, an autumnal blaze: yellow, red, and orange flames,
A reminder of the beauty of nature, the fragility
Of life, the mortal function of death, in 
conjunction to rebirth, beyond preservation, the sensation
Of time, slipping away before our
Eyes, in a flurry of
Colors, showing us the
Beauty in endings
Hope in
Beginnings.