Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Aug 2022 · 94
with her i feel
Aanya Luve Aug 2022
she holds me hostage;
like somber poetry.
she engulfs me;
like a harsh winter's breeze
she consumes me;
like the flames of a star.
she is my apollo.
Aanya Luve Sep 2021
There was magic in her eyes. The type that captivated you. I could never breathe properly around her; she was quite literally breathtaking. Her beauty surpassed that of a goddess. Her eyes glowed with mischief and chaos, like a late-night adventure. Her tears glowed like diamonds, yet her sadness dulled the Earth. Who was this girl? I longed to know her.

I only ever witnessed her in my dreams. Yet her warmth seemed so real. I could still feel the ghost of her touch in consciousness. I could still hear the lull of her voice in a crowded room. I could still see flashes of her when I closed my eyes.

She was everything I wished to be. The opposite of my insecurities. Only belonging to an alternate universe for she couldn’t exist here. Her light was too pure and their darkness too corrupt. The bliss of her smile would fade as quickly as the sunset.

So, for now she exists in my subconscious where she is safe.
Within every broken heart, there is a story of who we would have been.
Feb 2021 · 108
where the flame leads me
Aanya Luve Feb 2021
my darling,
will you hold my hand
if not forever
for only a second
you have long forgotten us
but i can still feel the whisper of your lips
every slice of my skin
feels like the graze of your fingertips
every bruise
feels like a kiss
as i sit here on my dying breath
you are all that consumes me
i hope that the wind will carry my soul
and lead me back to you one day.
toxic love has taken my life.
Aanya Luve Feb 2021
The weight of you is heavy
You have placed your fears upon me
And I have no idea what to make of them

I simply want to live
But you have bordered me
As you have been bordered

But you are oblivious to my walls
Because your walls are all you can see
It's scary isn't it?

Somehow you have managed to merge your tears with my own
And now your river supplies mine
And you have contaminated my water

This river is torturous now
It carries away my hopes and dreams
And drowns them viciously

I beg of you, I am on my knees
Knock down your walls
And cleanse your waters

So that you may help to save me.
Please allow me to be my own person.
Feb 2021 · 77
Truthful Reflections
Aanya Luve Feb 2021
Words tend to have double meanings when I think too deeply about them
I create false realities to represent each syllable
And keep them stacked away on the highest shelf of my mind
Until late at night when my eyes are red
And I cannot distinguish between the two possible causes

I once stared at the mirror for so long
That I thought I was no longer staring at my reflection
But instead an abandoned friend who I had long forgotten existed
With a gap between her front teeth and pigtails held with ribbons
Sheltered inside a world that had never been authentic

Her words too have double meanings
As she reminds me of her happy memories
But as the line between us blurred
Happy memories were reduced to coverups
And false realities became more authentic than her sheltered world
The only thing left of my childhood are sad stories disguised as happy memories.
Aanya Luve Feb 2021
My darling I apologize for any inconvenience
But every thought must be analyzed before accumulation
And still every word must be spoken with caution

I have recognized the burden
And I have realized my overreaction
But my thoughts, the masked lies, cannot be controlled

Have you not yet understood, after all this time?
Perhaps you have not been listening to my explanations
Or perhaps my words became your understanding of a situation you could not possibly begin to comprehend

After all, this is the very reason it is so hard to talk to you
I must pretend you have given me the solution to all my problems
Because it seems you believe that broken glass can be fixed with tape

Maybe if I scream you will finally hear me this time
Then would you listen to every breath and every strangled cry
Until my suffering becomes clear?

Or will you again, fix broken glass with tape
And go about as if it is not still broken?
It is often difficult for a person with mental illness to explain their emotions. It becomes especially difficult when family or friends refuse to really listen.

— The End —