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Lilly Phillips Poem
Tangled sheets
Another night goes by,
Was the night even here?
Minutes jump to hours into lightyears.
Dreams turn to nightmares,
Taunting my troubles with skilled pleasure.
A cycle always repeated after a bad day
Or good.
My tangled sheets tangle my mind
Twisting the fabric of my thoughts
Trying to find the cold side where I could rest my head,
But the cold restlessness does not leave my tangled sheets.
Another hour
Another tear spent.
“Why can’t I sleep anymore?”
Without music my head is full of loud silence.
Constantly telling me that it is my fault.
My mind is like a machine,
Constantly thinking.
04:11 am.
I have tried reading, but it does not help anymore
Even worse when winter has arrived,
The cold giving you a cold.
Heck, I cannot even lie down otherwise I cannot breathe.
Always coughing.
Body aching.
Yet my sheets are still tangled,
Just like me with my responsibilities
Copyright © Lilly Phillips | Year Posted 2026
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Lilly Phillips Poem
Can I just have a minute?
Yet another minute drives by,
Someone told another lie.
So why are you so dry?
It makes me want to die,
But I still stand here whilst you fly.
Making me want to cry,
Express all the sighs.
Yet you will not give me a sign
So, this is my last goodbye.
No matter how hard you try,
I will always have a good eye
No matter how busy I am in my mind
No matter the colour of the sky
I will always try
It is impossible for us both to fly
At the same time.
I would carry knives
Just so you could not die,
Or so I could.
But I know you would
Would stop me from taking down my hood,
To see my blood.
No matter how deep the flood,
I wish I would.
Would tear down my childhood
Even if it was no good.
Just to see what made me good.
Yet have such bad blood
Maybe because of how my blood runs cold.
I know I can be bold
But now the story of the old
Has been untold.
You may want to make me uphold,
But you cannot make my skin unfold.
You cannot force me to be silent in a choke hold.
I will refold the unfolded.
I may seem as dull as black gold,
But you won’t stay as pure as you told.
You too will turn ice cold.
Love may seem uncontrolled,
But in your hands its oversold.
Just like a trend.
A trend never stays,
It may make others daze
But you will not ever get praised
Like a stray.
You may be as bright as the day
But you will not be peaceful whilst you lay
You will be stranded on the bay,
And melt like clay.
You do not mean what you say
A minute turns into a day
So, I will not listen to what you say.
After all you buy too many pinots
So cannot I just have a minute.
Copyright © Lilly Phillips | Year Posted 2026
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Details |
Lilly Phillips Poem
Sunflowers
Sunflowers are just like any flower,
But they are not.
They always face the sun,
Ironic, isn't it?
They chase the rays of warmth to feel comforted.
Yet they never comfort the uncomforted.
They never lay in the grey mist to still find warmth.
They follow you on you brightest days,
Then turn away as the tables turn.
They stay for what they want, let alone need.
But once they cannot receive,
They leave you alone with defeat.
Defeat is a weapon,
Once it is weaponised that is all you will see.
You will dread losing but leap with joy when you achieve.
But it is not about the output.
It depends on your true input.
Not what you say to others,
Because it does not benefit them.
Benefits are painted yellow like the sun.
Drawbacks are painted blue like the moon.
Sure, they contrast each other,
But are they really that different?
Sure, they have stereotypes,
But are they true?
What if a drawback leads to something good too?
Unlike a benefit which could lead to something bad.
We may never know what could happen,
Unless you put in the effort.
It takes a leap of faith to step out of the mist.
And to join the sunflowers,
But always know where you started.
Never forget who is still in the mist
Because they need help too.
Be the sun in the sunflower,
Not just a flower.
They stand in fields among dozens,
But they do not stand out.
They fit in.
They fit into their expectations,
Prim and perfect.
But what if I can't be perfect?
What if I want to be like Smurfette?
Different in everything but still as bright as dawn.
What if I am torn?
I do not want to be a sunflower,
Besides, I love the moon instead.
Copyright © Lilly Phillips | Year Posted 2026
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