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Best Poems Written by Parallel Lines

Below are the all-time best Parallel Lines poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Open Wounds

"The ink that bleeds from this pen,
Mimics that of which bleeds from my soul.
Understand that these are not just words,
But open wounds that spill to paper."

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I'D Rather Leave

If I ever thought staying would hurt you
more than my absence,
I'd turn my crying eyes from you and walk away.
I didn't come here to cause anymore damage
to your already deconstructed soul.
I came here to heal.
And if the day comes that I no longer mend your wounds. 
I will not stand to make them deeper.
I will delicately kiss your scars once more
and love you in my memories.

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Blue

Tell me that my lips feel the most like home
and that when you're alone
it is me you think of.
Tell me that my hands melt over your skin
like candle wax drip.
Tell me that when you are scared
you close your eyes and I protect you.
Do you know that the most comfortable I have been is settled beneath your skin.
Now tell me why you cry.
Has anyone ever asked you that?
Has anyone ever begged to understand you deep inside of your soul?
Does anyone long to know your favorite color?
Tell me it is the shade of blue my eyes turn when we make love..
Tell me about your scars.
The ones that mark your skin..
and the ones that mark your heart.
Tell me about your first kiss.
Did it leave you breathless?
If you think about it hard enough can you still taste it?
Your first heart break...
You know the one you would never get over...
tell me about the day you did.

Now tell me about the first time we made love
Was it everything you had previously dreamed of?
Did every nerve ending come alive
and did everything melt inside?

When you came
was it like your first time?

Did you look down at me
me looking up at you
and my eyes
were they your favorite shade of blue?

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Stranger Danger

"I map out my thoughts with words like roads and letters like the highlighting points of what is left in this ghost town..
I feel so lost without the soliloquy that is my guide.
Do you hear the terror as I scream out my true frustrations?
Mind, body, and soul escape through rhyme without reasons..
like time without the seasons.
I pull back when I feel you are getting far too close;
I breathe in, but always fear the inevitable choke.
So as I spit out my distaste for what I have written,
I will never truly show what I have always kept hidden.
If I dare to openly and honestly reveal myself,
It bares too much resemblance of a time when I placed my heart on a shelf.
When one becomes that exposed, it is no doubt a danger.
I tend to keep my closest close...
As close as a stranger."

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Willow Trees

"I will wait patiently beneath the branches of willow trees
As flowers bloom in slow motion across plains
I will decide in that moment that you and I, are forever.

When my bones are brittle from the ache of age,
never forget they ache for you.

And when my heart pumps a little slower,
still know it beats for you.
And count them with me.

Lover, what I am saying, is never stop pressing your ear against my chest when night falls.
And never stop inhaling every breath I exhale.

Never stop finding passion in the little moments.

And when the big moments fall heavy on your heart,
never forget these hands which write for you.

They will pull you close and wipe every tear.

Because you and I, my love, we are forever."

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Touch

"How can you not believe in love at first sight, if you have ever seen her?
She is everything at first sight,
and if tomorrow when I wake; I am blinded,
I would love her at first touch."

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Feel

"She laughed...
I had a way of doing things that made her smile. 
Most days I felt inadequate, but not with her.  She was all I ever needed, even when I thought I didn't need anything.
I had a way of making her smile, 
but she had a way of making me feel."

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Mystery

"She is a mystery
Most days she won't speak of what weighs in her heart.
If you're lucky, which you most likely aren't, she will let you in.
And when you finally step inside the walls she has built, you will be left breathless.
Behind her defense and her privacy lies an inner beauty so stunning, one cannot fathom.
The music with which her mind speaks plays louder than the overwhelming silence of when she's angry.
Her beating heart beats in rhythm with yours and for the first time, you are convinced you are the same person.
But maybe this isn't the first time...
Has it always been this way?
Where two become so entangled that they are one without an option.
No choice.
But that silence..
When she's angry..
It is deafening.
And you've heard it more times than you care to admit and you've felt the ache in your soul because you have caused it.
No worse feeling than when her eyes land on you and pierce through your heart.
You've seen tears down her cheeks and know that you made them fall.
But she let you in.
She tore down all the exterior she built to let you get a glimpse of the light inside. 
Knowing well that you could dim her.
She knew that.
But she let you in.
And now you can't get out.
Because as soon as she broke down the walls and brought you to the other side she built them back up again.
Never wanting another soul to see what lies within. 
Never wanting you to leave.
She feared you'd flee.
She feared that if anyone got close enough to see her demons they would run.
But you didn't. 
You got inside and now you can't get out.
But what she doesn't know..
Is you would never try. 
You don't want to leave.
What she doesn't realize is
The coldest parts of her are still the warmest place to lay your head.
She's the closest to home that you've ever been."

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The Fall

"One night, I climbed to the highest mountain.
The air was thin; I felt I could touch the sky, if I stretched my arms upwards.
I struggled to catch my breath; I realized, this must be what love is like.
A high unlike any you have known.
The inability to breathe.
And this view..
Oh my, the view.
I walked myself to the edge, glancing down below.
"Ah.." I thought to myself.
"And there... there is the fall.."

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What It's Like Loving An Anxious Insomniac

"She bites her nails.
And not just down to the nub. No. She makes them bleed.
Mutilates herself.
She pulls out her own hair from any location where she can get a firm grip and then with a hand full of locks she cries to me.
She wants me to fix her.
She screams. Sometimes when there is no reason for her to and it is immediately followed by one of two things.
Tears.
Laughter.
She hates me.
She doesn't really, but some days you'd swear she did.
She hates her.
She does. Really.
She stays up way too late.
She's always tired.
All. Of. The. Time.
She can't stand her own appearance no matter how many times I've tried telling her she's beautiful.
Maybe I don't tell her enough.
She bites her nails down to the nub. And then some more.
She bleeds.
I bleed from my fingertips every time I write. 
She bleeds to feel.
So do I.
She bites her nails down to the nub and looks at me.
Begs me to fix her.
She's a disaster.
But she's my disaster.
And she's beautiful.
Maybe I don't tell her enough."