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Alice Lovey Jul 2018
Stricken with, like fate.
Idolizing. Idealizing.
What makes it so?
Curiosity to obsession.

Obsession to love?

What is love?

Sought after, like gold.
Idolizing me.
Yet none to succeed but for a fleeting moment.
I envy those with their beloveds.

Even those whom have suffered loss, but still love.

Craving the “good” feelings.
Like fantasies. Wanting someone who isn’t real.
Never to give wounds time to heal.

To invalidate, or embrace?
If I don’t know what is real
And if I don’t know who I am,
Do I follow my heart?
Or is naivety my wander?

What I seek is never mine to keep.
All stories are read, not written.
Not written by me.
Spur of the moment feelings of brokenness.
Alice Lovey Jul 2018
Like children,
Stamped out the flame.
Everything was thrown away.
Every day
Keeping you from yourself.
Every day
Dusting off your shelf.
Physically ill.
Living still?
Bored of waiting,
Worn of debating
With rage
And smiles you gave me,
Tears that made a greater sea.
Like Alice out sipping tea.

 ­                     Arrogant sneer.
                      Realized fear.

Have a drink.
It's finally over.
Bleed from myself till I'm sober.
Feels like dying.
Mental illness vying
With the little voices
For the better choices.

We lose.
"Failed relationships" and the utter despair following.
Alice Lovey Jul 2018
The beast comes clawing to sabotage anything near;
Despite what it loves, despite what it holds dear.
I've no hunting rifle, only my rightful fear
That I do not know what to believe...
That there's no longer more than what appears.

Lies nearly spin themselves, like spiders in your teeth.
Suddenly we find myself beneath
Revisit to what you've put me through.
Revisit to the dishonesty you swear to.
Distortions. Deceptions.
Even you don't know what's true.
Who are you?
Alice Lovey Jul 2018
I'm blunt and outspoken,
But easily heartbroken.
So truthfully, it’s best to lie.
Or perhaps I  should say, “hide.”
It’s best to hide hesitance than to let it reside
In every day conversational tides—
Pushing and pulling erratically, yet expectedly
Like my tug-of-war thoughts
The ones that route me to rot
Like my wrought iron that rusts
Until the build up coerces me to combust
At the worst possible times.  
It’s best to delude that I’m fine,
Or should I allude it’s easier to whine
Online to anonymous shrines
Like this one?
It’s easier to remind myself
What’s “for the best.” “Each obstacle is a test.”
What I should do. What I shouldn’t.
What I’d give and what you wouldn’t, couldn’t and that I needn’t care.
“It’s best now to carry on,”
To claim I don’t want what I want and
That what I do want is wrong.

Is it wrong to pursue our desires?
Wasn't a forward girl required?
Or are we simply left reticent liars?
It's always the stagnancy of which I tire.
Alice Lovey Jul 2018
Or do I already know?
I naively nourish these fervid feelings I hold.
Moving slowly, in rhythm, matching your sway,
Questionless is my admiration in every way.
Ardently I coast on the energy waves
Of your passions
And dispassionate despondency.
Waste the day together watching good TV;
It's not wasted if it's with you.
The never-ending riddle of learning how to love,
And learning how to love the one you love,
The one you think most of.
The unfaltering encouragement of success,
Filling in the blanks so the other won't stress.
I'll sweep the floors when you can't anymore,
Get us through the boring chores
Of every day life.
Those mundane motions for the future--
So much more to look forward to
With the addition of you.
Voices soften with the intimacy of quieter talk...
And the sensuality of our skin.
The carelessness and the giving in.
The tears shed, yours and mine,
Shared as "tiny dots on an endless timeline."
The subtleties of selflessness,
The subtleties of trying to change.
The obsession over mistakes,
Anxiety that keeps me awake.
Heated fights and
The addictive rush when we make up.
The selfishness, greed and possessiveness build up.
I am broken,
Or I act as if I am so.
I am broken, but there are sunflowers I wish to grow
In the broken *** within you
So that you may feel a little less broken too.
If this is love, I wish someone could tell me.
If this is love, why must it be so delicate,
Yet so assiduously enduring?
Continuous forgiveness
And the things we let each other get away with;
The "knowing better"s.
All those firsts, all those places that were meant to be with you.
Everything I would do
To make you smile.
How naturally I could laugh and feel at ease,
How naturally you brightened a smile on me.
How naturally, despite, we could become so miserable.
How naturally, despite, I could love so unconditional.
The wanting to just feel you there
Till we were unaware of our despair.
The frankness and the fall of our walls.

The letting go.
The folding up my heart and putting it away
When I can accept
It's not yet
To be worn by you.
"Shared dots on an endless timeline" borrowed from a song by La Dispute, called "Woman (in mirror)"


Letting myself feel, at least for today.
Alice Lovey Jul 2018
A touch,
A subtle understanding.
Never commanding,
Yet body language demanding
For the attention. For the affection.
An awkward gift; the thought that counts,
Wishing for your smile upon every ounce
Of effort their hearts pronounced.
The “I’m here for you”s, the “I’ve been there too”s.
They hold you when you cry—
Perhaps it’s because I was never held as a child
That I do it so easily.
They see me, for all that I am;
I was once an innocent sham.
****. I blurted out my thoughts in the moment.
They don’t scare.
Mirrored stare
Back me.

I always associated “friends” with “ends.”
A touch, a subtle gesture of reciprocated love
From friends.
I find myself, not alone, with the safehood of vulnerability.

Please don’t go. I need you.
I’m sorry for the way I am. You always make me feel enough, even when it’s not your responsibility. I’ve never felt friendship from the deepest part of myself like I do now. I’m so grateful.

Everyone is still asleep right now, so I’ve spent the last few hours drifting in my thoughts and felt the emotion carrying me towards writing. I love them so ******* much.

Alice Lovey Jul 2018
Even if I waited, as I would,
On the harbor of the sea from which you've drifted,
You are the Captain of your driftwood.
I am a Lighthouse.
Standing on its own, but beckoning a safe return.
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