Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
  Nov 2017 annabel
i never knew what it was like to be heartbroken in love until i met you.
because i can call you mine, but when i say it the words feel empty...
you are mine.
are you?

the sweet nothings you whisper in my ear are starting to sound more like nothing than sweet,
and i don’t know how to tell you that i am no longer happy most of the time.
i have both my good, and my bad days;
but sometimes even the good days turn to bad,
and i know you can turn the bad days good again, but i don’t know how to ask.
maybe thats the problem.
maybe I’m just too afraid for love, too shy to be selfish enough to ask for all of your attention even though i know it is what i deserve.

how can i tell you that i am a growing hurricane?
Still developing, i am what scientists would call a tropical depression, but there is nothing tropical about this depression.
i am sad
and i don’t know how to ask for help.
i think when you told me you loved me, i misunderstood and heard “let me help you”;
so i said i love you back, but i really meant "i can’t breathe"...
and I’ve realized you can’t help me.

you can’t fix someone who doesn’t know why they’re broken
and maybe thats the problem
i spend too much time trying to find a solution, without focusing on what I’m trying to solve,
and its ruining me.
i know one day the storm in me will grow so loud it will flow out of me like soda from a shaken can,
and i don’t know how to be prepared~
all i can do now is wait.
wait for the damage,
wait for the day you realize I’m not good enough,
wait for the day you leave me,
tell me, it’s good for the both of us,
we just need to "grow apart."

how do i tell you that without your presence, i can’t tell the difference between up and down?
i don’t know what is right or wrong.
i don’t know how to grow without you.
you are all i have learned to know, learned to love.

how do i tell you that i love you without making it sound like an anchor?
digging deep in the trenches so you can’t leave me anymore.
how do i make sure that when i say it you hear me loud and clearly?

my words are stuck in a glass bottle,
swimming atop waves in furious ocean.
my only hope is that they wash up on your shore,
my only hope is that when you see them you start to miss me again,
the way i’ve been missing you since the day we parted.
I wrote this a few months after we started dating and everything i thought would happen eventually did. Also this sounds a lot better when I read it out loud.

annabel Dec 2016
and i wish you wouldn't compare relationships and tell me how to love because people love differently
some burn forever and some have never seen fire
annabel Oct 2016
the wind grew still at night

as summer left in a deep blue haze

my breath escaped softly, speaking the words

of your own true name -

now autumn dances during the day

and then returns to subtle slumber with the dawning sun

so starry, so ephemeral, and luminous it presents

a new passing - ever so beautiful - has just begun.

"Autumn is coming.  It may be the sneakiest season; it disguises itself with warm winds and late evening golden light.  It wraps itself in colors that look like fire and the slowly fading sound of crickets at night.  It comes without warning and without apology and before you know it, the air is cold and the leaves are falling and the Summer you thought you were enjoying is just a memory.  Sly.  So sly."
annabel Oct 2016
you are the earth beneath my feet

that holds me up in every single way.

you are the oceans of the world -

bringing life to the barren shores each day.

you are the sun, alive in the morning

and filling me up with light.

you are the single lone star in the sky

that illuminates in the dark of night.

you are the sound of a wind-sung breeze

calling my name closer to you.

you are the touch of the air

that whirls around me and through.

you are like an addiction -

a drug that doesn't stop;

you remind me of the broken streetlight

that flickers in my mind through the rooftops.

you are the clock ticking,

telling me i'm out of time -

however, in reality

i know you'll always be mine.

standing with your arms around me,

you make me feel like i'm whole.

now with my heart upon your sleeve,

you give me a feeling that i've never known.

but most of all, you are my world;

the world that i live to see.

without you,

there wouldn't even be me.
whatta criNGE **** i was so sappy when i was young

annabel Oct 2016
i will never understand
why you held me
when i was the fire
and you were afraid of warmth
annabel Oct 2016
this is (not) a heartache poem
you or the way
your eyes stood glossy and
your mouth silent
in large crowds of people –
demeanour slowly playing
over me
time and time again,
even when i swore to myself that i would
shut you out
for good
like your smile stuck in my brain,
it kept coming

please understand that there is (no)
heartache here
because this is(n’t) a
about how i spent my life in
filled with every beautiful,
word i could think of
while you lived in
shallow, broken
how i could see you perfectly
through the flesh and bone and *******
nobody else knew about.

could you see
how much
i longed for you to
take me in the way i
was –
speak to me in the carefully rationed
words of your
stories –
anything that could’ve
brought me closer to you but instead,
only burned
in the wildfires of all you
cared about?

did i end up in those fires too?
were you so certain that i would just
how you stopped sending me
the texts
that i waited
oh-so long for?

were you so certain that i
would have
let you slip away so easily
after the way you lead me to
there was something
between us?

well, i did(n’t),
yet, just the thought of it
me to remember how
you were the brightest star in my universe but
was just a mere speck of dust
in yours.

this will (not) be another poem
i dream about
watching every bone in
your body cave in
feeling your breath
against my ears
but (no),
trust me, there is (no) heartache
that i have
for you
or anything you ever did
in the last seven months we spent
that always left me dreaming
on a prayer -
but never listened to.

i know you didn’t want me.
i know you didn’t care.
i was just another one to you.

this is (not) a poem about
how i’m now
because you left me
even though
you weren’t mine –

for where i am
now is(n’t)
love n stuff.

— The End —