I am so tired of there being a negative stigma to always being in a relationship.
I am that girl and I shouldn't have to defend myself but here I am writing a poem doing exactly that.
There's nothing wrong with being single; there's even a sense of independence that comes with it. But why do people think this isn't attainable while in a relationship? Why should I have to choose between my independence and love?
I am a hopeless romantic. I always have been. I will never turn down a chance for new love because I feel I should be single. Each love you have is different and with that you will learn new things. Why would anyone turn that down?
I walk by this lake everyday.
I pass these same trees routinely.
My feet stomp against
this exact concrete daily.
I’m with you.
Your mile-long smile turned the leaves
into spheres of fire.
When your thumb wiped the fallen eyelash off
my cheek you transformed the streetlights
into floating lanterns.
The story of your mother
teaching you to bake the perfect
apple pie before she passed
converted the sidewalk
into a solid rainbow you borrowed from the heavens
to glide across with me.
you made this spot
my favorite spot.
Call me hopeless but not romantic
Chocolates, flowers are not automatic
Saturday date becomes mandatory
Celebrations are now obligatory
Don’t blame me for being like this
I am not much a fan of cheesy flicks
My love, why state the obvious
The way I look at you is so much of a proof
That I am hopelessly inlove with you
I was a star and you were down to earth
So I withdrew from the throne of nightly kings-
And plummeted head first with one leap of faith
You were worth falling for. You were amazing!
I braved the heat and zoomed past asteroids
I crushed into better judgment and sound reason
I sped past every sign of what lay ahead; all I was to avoid
I felt Superman strong and didn't care if you were made of Krypton
The time our worlds met and fates collided-
Was magical! You were more than just my crush
Our moment together soon faded-
But I was lucky to have you, even for a flash
The moment I was in the warmth of your arms-
I shuttered to bits and collapsed in an instant
The moment I was with you was no cause for alarm
For in those few breaths was everything I'd ever want
Men look at the crater of poems and wonder-
Why would a star cause so much chaos just to falter?
I was a god of words, reigning with verbal thunder-
But fell to have one moment with African dust's daughter
I knew we'd never have a happily ever after
But I lived. I dared. I loved. And soon, my life started anew.
So, as you stand in this crater that inspires both tears and laughter
You'll hear em say a star fell here. I hope you recall, it fell for you
Dear Whoever You Are,
You will look in my eyes and see the mountains I have conquered
You will see how broken I had to be gain the fire you see
Yes I am the furthest thing from perfect
I am a work in progress
I am such a child right now
I thought I could find you at the bottom of a bottle
I tried searching for you for so long I began to hate myself
It literally just made me bitter and frustrated
I almost convinced myself I could drown my demons
But thank god for showing me the light was inside me all along
So I am trying my hardest to get the light from inside me outside
I am back to being me and no longer a shell of myself
I started working out so I can protect you
I am doing well in school so I can provide for you
I am accepting my past so I can be ready for our future
I have stop drinking so I can be there for you
I escaped a job that just caused me anxiety
I can finally sleep instead of being strung out on caffeine
I believe I am finally doing all the things I need to do
I am moving forward and no longer looking backwards
So please whatever you are doing right now don't stop moving forward
Every time you feel like you cant go any further just do it
I am begging you to take that next step
I don't care if it leads you into trouble
Because at least you are moving forward
Every step forward is another step towards us being together
Iridescent Charms & Atomic Raves,
Raptured Revelations In Her Bulletproof Grave,
Impassive Frequencies Of Her Reflections Engraved.
Ionic Ribbons Of Her Artistic Trance,
Neon Contrasts In Her Stellar Stance,
Starry-Eyed Rhapsody In Her Censored Glance,
Vaporized Fractals Draped In Her Past,
Crystallized Specters Sterilized To Last,
Perpetual Panic Triggering A Blast,
Sedated Phantasms In Her Paralyzed Voice,
Isolated Collisions & Distressed Noise,
Overrated Memoirs Of Her Tainted Reprise,
Liquid Shadows In Her Moonlit Dreams,
Theatrical Schemes To Her Grand Regime,
Enigmatic Queen Of Turbulent Screams,
Shipwrecked Effigy Resonating Duality,
Overtuned Spirits Illuminating Reality,
Metaphysical Anniversary Of Her Romantic Fatality.
- 04:28AM -
The sultry evening falls like the silk upon my shoulders
I kiss your throat as you write to your mother
It conflicts you, does it not?
The memory of her weeping and the very act of your hands
One clutching your pen, the other gliding over the inside of my thigh
Both ever so foolishly stained in the purest of black
It certainly conflicts me, my love, for all my tender heart longs for is this:
Grip my hair, press me harder onto your lap, blacken me
Let me see the sweetest stars—
And may they be sweeter than the relish of raspberries upon my mouth
Write to your mother about me
I shall kiss you for it
And thus, as we clasp hands dreamily, become your muse
Yellow looks like the most beautiful person in your life. It wasn't about the way they look, but how sunshine seems to part of their bloodstream. But Yellow has always loved the night. How the city lights reflect through their glistening eyes. Yellow knew all the right things to say. Their minds are the entire universe, filled with constellations and planets you have yet to understood. You didn't always understood Yellow, with their never-ending questions and poetry. But being understood was a foreign thing for Yellow. Maybe Yellow was better off not to be understood. There is a thin shield that blocks you from reading Yellow but they would trace their fingers through your skin as if you are the universe. You never saw yourself as the universe, only Yellow did. In fact, you saw yourself as an ordinary rock resting on top of the dirty soil. To be stepped and kicked. "But at least you are strong.", Yellow would say. Yellow would always find a way to spread light into the darkest parts of yourself. They introduced you to a corner of the world you never thought would ever exist.
Though you always believed that Yellow's force field has always kept you outside their door. Yellow has always made you feel like running through every mountain in the world, in hopes that you'll find someone like them. Yellow always smiled, despite their burning frustration. Yellow burned both in a good and bad way. They aren't the smoothest surface either. All you wanted was to be the one behind Yellow's light. Maybe you are. You never understood Yellow. You probably never will. And maybe that's how it should be.
Dear Whom It May Concern: I am in a room, with only a pencil and paper at my disposal. I do not know the date. This is my testimony of sorts but really, it is a witness statement. The frame of mind for writing may be jagged or jarring for my bones quiver.
When my eyeslockupon the grains,
everything appears to be the same:
the man & woman have a common interest
which seems to be only where they rest
the man & woman have common views,
the spite of words personify, when they argue
the passion roars strong, but only with gain,
Prometheus cringes at what his fire has 'changed',
but in this moment, they are in the lenses territory,
and they must abide with a smile upon his creative mastery.
They are, she is not
I do not care where they rest.
They must have pastlivesbeyondthelensesbindingcrys,
they are the so-called protagonist of the mechanical painting.
Well, I can see from their eyes,
they hide behind their disguise, only then I realise something beyond their lives, something so strange and yet common, it could hypnotise.
(A faded figure in the background: the one pulling something from his petticoat and a blur has struck his face. *"Indistinguishable... disgrace, my eyes! Don't you realise whom that is!... or the lens... I've been up all night." I say with dismay for I can never relay from my thoughts of distraught, as tears flow down my face, they made their way through the sleep in my eyes. I still remain none the wiser.
A stranger in disguise of memories
there to make ends meet,
The phantom of the polaroid
stalks and preys the street,
He has an agenda of his own life - you can always assume *that -
with ignorance of their artist's feat.
Engraved into the couple's lives - through the copy of that photograph -
and yet they'll never meet.
(always in frame,
but never in time
always captured discreetly,
but never in conscious mind.)
That phantom is an enigma, I hear his silent crys,
Synesthesia from the photograph and staying up all night.
Was he cast from the god's above?
Is he the devil in disguise?
Lucifer before the fall?
Or simply lost in paradise?
Either was he hides on a summer day of may,
He will never know whose lives he exists
& neither will they.
This is my final note, sleep has come (let's go),
I'll solve this puzzle in a new light
As sky-daddy shines with might
and my skin is refreshed post-night.
(tick, tock, tick, tock goes the corpus clock
everybody ages bad,
death only comes with age.
tick, tock, tick, tock goes the corpus clock
immerse your being in a printed world,
and live beyond your age.)
Warning, smoke has filled the room,
It clings to the, the, burning broom,
The haze breaches my barriers like a soldier
& the weight of the air is like a boulder
& I smell gasoline on my hands
& my internal compass knows not where I am
& I hear laughter, although I cannot be sure
Only that a man was through the spirit door I saw,
He had blood on his hands and a blur as a face
The disguise is personified with a father whom laced
My time must have come, the Phantom does know
But the flames die down, and the room is glittered with snow
What an *Other night I really had
Trust me to wake up I was glad
But as I come to my senses, I must await
The letter on the wet floor, unsure if it's late
The note is not damp: written in scarlet
The time has stopped, the blood is splattered
I question what happened to the utmost degree
The letter read "I watched you sir, and you watched me:
That man and woman you gazed upon are now buried.
Cut up into little pieces under the floor.
I'll have lots of fun when I see the
police burst through that door.
For I know it was the girl
you stalked & adored
and wanted more.
but you sir, will never know me. Hope you have glee.
rotting in that jail cell. Peacefully. R I P."
a curious note, the photograph has gone, the image of the man has been wiped from my head and my house is severely damaged. My badge has been removed and I have been taken from my room.
I write this wi......
They ask me if I’m with anyone…
If I’ve found anyone in my place of need?
Or if by chance she happened to walk on by
Down the other side of the same street
Just right past me?
To which I have always and often replied
Feigning a smile of effortless ease
That they shouldn’t worry about such things
Because my love life will stroll at whatever pace
And down whatever street that it does please