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Megan Devon Poem
This is a poem about the future I'd love to have with the boy of my dreams.
None of this has actually happened yet (besides us falling in love with eachother) but it's how I would like it to happen.
Once upon a time, I became the luckiest girl in the world. I fell in love with a gorgeous boy with blue eyes, and he actually loved me back. He was like my prince, he treated me like his princess and would do anything for me. Today, we're united as King and Queen. It's been years, but walking down the aisle I'm still staring at the cutest, most perfect guy I've ever seen. When our lips finally meet after parting to say "I do", it tastes like Heaven.
Once upon a time, I married a gorgeous boy with blue eyes. And today, I saw those perfect blue eyes light up when he first held our little girl in his arms. She's got her Daddy's blue eyes and just a little bit of her Momma's brown hair. She's going to be spoiled and loved more than possible. She'll know we support her no matter what, and she can tell us everything. It will be perfect.
Once upon a time, one set of blue eyes became two, and we were made into a family. Now, that second pair of blue eyes is walking out the door to college, with a suitcase in one hand and a boy's hand in the other. He better love her and treat her just as well as her Daddy does.
Once upon a time, I fell in love with a gorgeous boy with blue eyes. His hair has dulled and grayed but his eyes are the same, and they've seen a lifetime's worth of happiness and love. My baby had babies with the boy she walked out the door with, and I can tell she loves them as much as we loved her. Now it's her time to live.
Copyright © Megan Devon | Year Posted 2013
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Megan Devon Poem
Sailing these seas, right now the waves are rough.
The ship is hard to steer, and I fear we may sink.
My crew has hope, but they don’t see what I do.
The water’s looking troubled, just like the way I think.
Sailing these seas, the waves have settled down.
The ship is sailing smoothly, I believe we’ll be okay.
My worries are at the back of my head.
I’ll save them for another day.
Sailing these seas, I think we’ve struck something!
My crew is in a panic, and I was not prepared.
Captain, don’t you know you always have to be cautious?
Even the leader sometimes gets scared.
Arriving at the shore, the ship barely intact.
Most of my crew is gone, but a few knew how to live.
They saved me when I needed them.
I want to show thanks, but I have nothing left to give.
*side note*
To me, this poem sort of symbolizes depression, while indirectly talking about it.
The first verse pretty much says
"I am in a bad place, and I have supporting friends/family, but they don't see what I'm going through the way I do."
Second: "Things are getting better and I've decided to stop worrying about bad things happening and try to be happy."
Third: "Whenever I start thinking about good things and have hope, something bad always happens and I should've been prepared for it."
Fourth: "I made it through it, but lost a lot of the people supporting me because they couldn't handle me while I was down, and whatever I went through weakened me so it's hard to show gratitude to the people who stayed."
Copyright © Megan Devon | Year Posted 2013
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Megan Devon Poem
This is in no way my poem, I'm not trying to take any credit for it.
I saw it on YouTube performed by Neil Hilborn.
The first time I saw her, everything in my head went quiet.
All the ticks, all the constantly refreshing images just disappeared.
When you have Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, you don't really get quiet moments.
Even in bed, I'm thinking "Did I lock the door? Yes. Did I wash my hands? Yes. Did I lock the door? Yes. Did I wash my hands? Yes." When I saw her, the only thing I could think about was the hairpin curve of her lips, or the eyelash on her cheek-
the eyelash on her cheek-
the eyelash on her cheek.
I knew I had to talk to her.
I asked her out 6 times in 30 seconds, she said yes after the third one but none of them felt right so I had to keep going.
On our first date, I spent more time organizing my meal by color than I did eating, or f*cking, talking to her. But she loved it.
She loved that I had to kiss her goodbye 16 times, or 24 times if it was Wednesday.
She loved it took me forever to walk home because there are lots of cracks in our sidewalk.
When we moved in together, she said she felt safe, like no one would ever rob us, because I definitely locked the door 18 times. I'd always watch her mouth when she talked-
when she talked-
when she talked-
when she talked-
when she talked.
When she said she loved me, her mouth would curl up at the edges.
At night, she'd lay in bed and watch me turn the lights on and off and on and off and on and off and on and off and on and off and on and off. She'd close her eyes, and imagine the days and nights were just passing in front of her. Some mornings, I'd start kissing her goodbye but she would just leave because I was making her late for work.
When I stopped at a crack in the sidewalk she just kept walking. When she said she loved me, her mouth was a straight line. She told me I was taking up too much of her time. Last week, she started sleeping at her mother's place. She told me that she shouldn't've let me get so attached to her. That this whole thing was a mistake, but how can it be a mistake that I don't have to wash my hands after I touch her? Love is not a mistake, it's not fair that she can run away from this and I just can't! I can't go out and find someone new, because I always think of her. (read next poem for ending)
Copyright © Megan Devon | Year Posted 2013
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Megan Devon Poem
I want to be your guardian.
I want to be your resort when you're at you're lowest,
I want to be the wings to lift you to a safe haven.
I want to be the only existing thought in your head at night before you fall asleep.
I want to be the one to make you happy with yourself.
I want to fold you up and embrace every fiber of your being.
I want to protect you from everything, including yourself and me.
I do not want to be the object holding you back in life.
I do not want to be what you waste your time on,
doing all of the above mentioned things,
when you could be spending your time on meaningful things.
Such as loving yourself.
I do not want you to know as much as you do about me,
my weaknesses, the struggles I face daily with myself and my inner demons.
I do not want you to know these things because I'm scared.
I'm scared of you using these against me some day.
I should be afraid, or at least I think I should,
because that's all that everyone else has taught me to be.
I do not want to be afraid anymore.
Of course I really do want to be what you waste your time on,
and of course I really do want you to know all the things you know about me,
I'm just afraid.
I do not want to be afraid anymore..
I thought being with you would fix me, would mend my broken pieces.
I was wrong. You can help me, but only I can entirely fix myself. I am afraid.
I'm afraid of change, I'm afraid of being so dependent on you.
I do not want to be afraid anymore.
I guess I don't know what I want.
Because the only thing I've spent my time on wanting for the last year at least, is you. Every little thing about you down to the cute little
mole above the right side of your lip. The little hairs that develop on your chin if you don't shave for a couple of days.
Everything about you drives me crazy. You possess all the things I look for in a person
and I didn't even know I wanted all of those things until I met you.
You've treated me better than I ever imagined I deserved to be treated.
I could never fathom I deserved to be treated with such kindness,
because all I've ever known is the hatred from myself.
I don't know what I would do without you in my life.
I'm scared of what would happen if you weren't there.
I do not want to be afraid anymore.
Hopefully, I don't have to be.
Copyright © Megan Devon | Year Posted 2013
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Megan Devon Poem
The mirror shows only a picture,
that image does not define you.
When it comes to importance,
what matters is what's inside you.
Do you have patience and kindness?
You have good looks, this I know.
Though the things that make you successful
are the things the mirror does not show.
Some people search for appearance,
some people dig farther down.
But what makes somebody perfect
is not just seen, it must be found.
Copyright © Megan Devon | Year Posted 2013
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Megan Devon Poem
A smile from a stranger,
a message on your phone.
Every thought counts when you're feeling alone.
A blue kiss at midnight,
a smoke in the rain.
I'll do what I can to diminish the pain.
A walk in the park,
a drive in the car.
I'll try to escape, but the thoughts won't be far.
A broken open casket,
a flower for your grave.
I tried to stay alive, but I couldn't be saved.
Copyright © Megan Devon | Year Posted 2014
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Megan Devon Poem
Not even really that much of a poem, I don't even know what to call it. I don't care..
I want to turn up the music loud enough to satisfy,
but the closest I could get to drowning out the voices in my head is a blown pair of earbuds.
I want to be happy with myself,
but the closest I could get is feeling publicly presentable with a face caked with makeup.
I want to feel like I'm worth something,
but the closest I could get is bloody arms and thighs, and tear-stained pillows.
I want to feel skinny,
but the closest I could get is crying on a scale.
I'm sick of feeling like nothing will ever get better.
I'm sick of feeling like I hold everyone back.
I'm sick of feeling like everyone would be better if I were dead.
Copyright © Megan Devon | Year Posted 2013
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Megan Devon Poem
Usually, when I obsess over things, I see germs sneaking into my skin.
I see myself crushed by an endless succession of cars, and she was the first beautiful thing I ever got stuck on. I want to wake up every morning thinking about the way she holds
her steering wheel, how she turns shower knobs like she's opening a safe,
how she blows out candles-
blows out candles-
blows out candles-
blows out candles-
blows out candles-
blows out candles-
blows out-
Now, I just think about who else is kissing her.
I can't breathe because he only kisses her once, he doesn't care if it's perfect.
I want her back so bad.
I leave the door unlocked.
I leave the lights on.
*Not my poem in any way, it's just a poem I really love*
I saw it on YouTube performed by Neil Hilborn.
Copyright © Megan Devon | Year Posted 2013
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Megan Devon Poem
A world full of violence is no world at all,
rather a planet of hatred.
Each and every person is seemingly small,
but one choice could do so much damage.
Guns are pulled before thoughts,
excuses are made for the crimes.
Late bar fights in parking lots,
mostly for their entertainment.
What happened to when
our country was ours
and we didn't have to send
out troops to protect it?
What happened to the time
to get on a plane
you walked through a line
and belongings were private?
The world would be a better place
if people could just get along.
I hope someone's able to erase
all of this unnecessary chaos.
Copyright © Megan Devon | Year Posted 2013
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Megan Devon Poem
Every scar paved the path to painful memories she never thought she’d be leading him
down at 3 am. Every secret she hesitated to tell the other boys slid off her tongue
like the tears down her cheeks that were present around no one else.
The only part of her he wanted to see was her soul.
The only thing he wanted to remove was the lingering negativity, not her clothes.
He’s the only one who would hold her and patiently listen to her when she was at her
lowest, yet no one understands why she can’t quite function right when he’s not there,
no one understands why for months he was the only one she could hold a conversation
with. And most importantly, no one understood her blood-stained wrists after he left.
They couldn't comprehend her point of no return in those 5 months. They didn't get her joy
when he finally came back. Their annoyed faces are worth every second she gets to talk
about him, it’s all worth it for the sleepy Saturday mornings of waking up to him.
It’s all worth it to know at the end of the day there is someone who loves you so much.
Every bump is worth the feeling of being so incredibly close to another human being.
Copyright © Megan Devon | Year Posted 2014
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