Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
  Nov 2017 Etelith
mi
The best poems are all about
loss and pain and suffering.
It feels more natural to write a poem
about a long lost memory,
Or a love that never worked.

Poets aren't allowed to be happy.
They’d run out of material to write about.

The words
content and happy
in the same sentence as the word
I'm,
feels like your tongue
never sitting right in your mouth,
like teeth getting in the way
when making out
like an itchy throat,
not going away even after coughing a fit.

The phrases
You are and my boyfriend
can't be a real sentence
like how
unicorns and fairytales
don't exist.
They just feel like
two jigsaw pieces
from different parts of the puzzle
forced to sit beside each other.

The word love
just doesn’t resonate
with the beat of my heart.
Maybe because
my heart stopped beating
a long time ago
and my brain had to carry the workload
so I think twice as much as I should
synonyms?
I overthink.

I may be the only poet
who doesn’t want to be happy;
a ******* clinging to heartbreak,
and loss and pain and suffering.
because it’s easier to let heartbreak
wrap myself in its familiar arms
than to experience an adventure
with happiness wrapped in mine.
i don't know how to love

-d.j.
  Nov 2017 Etelith
Angela K
don't use me
as your broom
to sweep up your feelings for her
under rugs
cause every time we kiss
every time we touch
i can feel her coarse dust
rubbing through my skin
  Nov 2017 Etelith
Lily X
You had me.

Completely.

From the very start. And you knew it.

It’s strange; how different you are to me now.

But, how foolish of me to believe a conman’s pitch?

But, how could I not?
It was the best kind of lie; one I wanted to believe.

My heart stopped beating each time I looked at you.
How could I overlook my own cardiac arrests?
Your tongue was so smooth, I didn’t notice it was forked.
Your words sounded so good, I didn’t realise they could be false.
I fell so hard, that I didn’t even think that I could hit the ground.

But, of course, I hit the cold concrete.
In fact, I crash every time I remember your face.

Because sometimes the cruelest of liars are the easiest to believe.
  Nov 2017 Etelith
0o
Until you’re here, until I’m gone,
Please forgive me if I carry on,

Late summer sun, a kiss goodbye,
I blinked, and half my life went by,

Another state, a rootless tree,
I drew your face from memory,

One last last chance, a slow decay,
I may not have another day,

And so I fight, swing from my knees,
I won’t succumb to this disease,

Ticker-tape parade, Tinkertoy heart,
Please forgive me if I fall apart.
Next page