i wrote a poem for you.
it had all the words i never knew how to say, written on a simple piece of paper.
i wanted to show it to you, and to declare my love.
but you didnt care,
so i hid my love until one day..
it all burned.
Sep 30, 2018
Sep 30, 2018 at 7:25 PM UTC
i am tired
not physically
but emotionally
and i dont know how much more i can take
im tired
tired of trying
tired if not being good enough
tired of everything
Jan 7, 2018
Jan 7, 2018 at 4:58 PM UTC
its her eyes isn't it?
the way the sun shines in them.
sorry to say, but mine never did that.
its her smile isn't it?
the way the sight of it could make the most gloomy person,
happy.
I've never liked my smile.
its her personality isn't it?
the way she cracked jokes like cracking eggs on easter.
my jokes were never funny.
its her.
its just her.
its always been her.
and im sorry my eyes don't grasp the sun like hers does.
Dec 19, 2017
Dec 19, 2017 at 11:35 AM UTC
You cannot tell her she's beautiful,
You cannot tell her you love her,
You cannot tell her she's your world
When she's at her best moments.
You may only tell her those things,
If you're ready for her to have those off days,
If you're ready for her to not always wear makeup,
If you're ready to deal with her mood swings,
If you're ready for her to be clingey some days and distant others,
You cannot tell her any of the pretty little comments,
Unless you can handle her
Alone at two A.M.
As she's struggling with life,
And wondering why
She is not enough to win her own internal battles
Dec 17, 2017
Dec 17, 2017 at 8:16 AM UTC
staring off into space,
i think to myself..
do i have a place?
my mind is engulfed,
with the thoughts
of never fitting in..
Dec 13, 2017
Dec 13, 2017 at 7:59 AM UTC
being a poet in love
means writing down
every single emotion
you’ve ever felt on to paper
it means turning simple things
about a person into
deep details that only
you would notice
such as when the one you
love simply smiles at you
that could turn into
“his mouth turned upward into
a small smile upon his cheeks
making my stomach erupt
into tiny butterflies”
it means writing every single
interaction you’ve had with that
person and turning it into something
poetic and beautiful even if it’s as
simple as a smile
it means letting your heart
do the writing for you as the
emotions pour out of your mind
but it also means heartbreak
lots and lots of heartbreak
having your heartbroken
even helps poets write about
being in love
it’s hard being a poet in love
because we can never find
someone who truly wants
to be written about
Dec 10, 2017
Dec 10, 2017 at 6:57 PM UTC
I hate you.
I can’t not hate you.
The way I take my breath in through my lungs,
Hates you.
And yes it’s cold air.
That’s all I’ve been able to breathe in,
Since I met you.
Or dare I say,
Since you left me.
That warm September day..
But still you tell me
about that one girl
With the long blonde hair.
You know,
That one girl
You left me for
About how much better she is
You know
That one girl that makes me look in the mirror
At one o’clock in the morning
screaming,
Half expecting the mirror to answer me back like a human would,
“Why am I not good enough?”
Dec 10, 2017
Dec 10, 2017 at 6:36 PM UTC
you remind me of math.
so complex, and tiring.
sometimes i just want to give up on you.
you remind me of a caterpillar.
so care-free, and strong.
you remind me of poetry.
so many things said,
yet so many things left unspoken.
but like math, caterpillars, and poetry.
you just have to open your eyes a little,
be willing to understand,
be ready to be confused for a while..
to see the beauty underneath it all.
Dec 10, 2017
Dec 10, 2017 at 5:21 PM UTC
the wind stills,
my heart hurts,
my head spins,
butterflies everywhere.
32 degrees is the temperature at which water freezes.
but to what extent does the heart break?
Dec 10, 2017
Dec 10, 2017 at 1:15 PM UTC