No, I don't.
Oh one who
takes pride in
Look at yourself.
Unable to accept who
you are without another.
Creating a false sense of loneliness
by ignoring the relationships you have
in favor of the one you do not.
You believe that you are
rebellious in your isolation
but when it comes down to it
what is more radical:
Cynicism and bitterness
To you valentine antagonist:
I Love You.
If one more person says "singles awareness day" to me I will snap. I'm asexual/aromantic, so if anyone should be complaining it's me. **** it up.
My mind, it sings
my ears, they ring
and this is true
because of you.
No simple thing,
no mild fling
the times we spent;
I felt content.
These phrases set
lest you forget.
Here's some rephrasing:
My only source of some disgust is,
the words I write don't do you justice!
I love my friends so much. So naturally, I have to write sappy poetry about them. An aroace has to squeeze in the love poems where they can get them.
This isn't you.
This head-splitting moment.
You don't wish for those feelings
you don't need that
You're happy with the way you are,
But sometimes, you wonder what
that sort of closeness feels like.
You yearn for a feeling
you'll never get.
Mostly I'm ok with being aromantic, but it ***** when friends fall in love and suddenly you're the third wheel.
It's over, isn't it?
I raise you rain.
And clouds too!
And gusts of wind that
can blow the hat off your head.
And cuddling together under blankets
while drinking tea
(you're more of a coffee person)
during the long nights.
So to the cold!
To the burrowing the falling
To us who live on yet.
ITS FALL FOLKS
Our friendship ended in poems,
as so many things do.
The pain, the loneliness...
it all came through.
You and me loved each other once,
but no longer.
Absence will not make the heart
You made me cry,
so this is goodbye.
I figured out a lot of the poems I was writing felt lonely and betrayed, and it caused me to re-evaluate a friendship. It turns out that it was no longer healthy, and I have pulled back. I'm honestly just sad I didn't distance myself sooner. Could have saved myself a lot of heartache.
I never know where I am
in relation to you.
i wade through the grass mud on my shoes
You're here, and then
your eyes close off to me.
the light flits through the trees
It happens more and more often,
and yet I can't slip away.
i follow the light through thicket and clay
I think about us
so much, I can't sleep.
the light gets away and the mud is deep
You're gone when I blink.
all good things must come to an end
The kitchen table, dimly lit, at which
Sit I, with book propp’d up upon the edge,
And in my hand, a mug bedeck’d with owls,
To the brim fill’d with sweet cinnamon chai.
The room as warm as summer, walls protect.
And I look out at the surrounding black
Becoming lost deep in the rain and wind
Which whirls without, just like a dancer wild
Would swirl a ribbon round and round their head.
But i sit in my isle of warmth and light.
While they are locked outside, in fath’mless dark.
another poem from highschool. We were studying iambic pentamiter.