the drop of my stomach
the ache in my heart
unexpected words leave me feeling worlds apart
i ask myself questions i can’t bare to know the answer
i ponder my worth, comparing our genders
i ******* hate rhyming, because it sounds too simple
when i’m trying to express the dark thoughts of my mental

i'm sorry
i can't love you like they could
i'm sorry
that's not how God made me
i'm sorry
i break your heart
i'm sorry
you love me
i'm sorry
my feelings can't align with yours
like how i feel most myself
when i'm kissing
Her

reckless behavior
that’s what it is
there’s no way to save her
there’s no way to win
she does what she wants
no care in the world
she’s never loved once
she takes, like a *****
she’ll drop you so fast
no need to commit
don’t ever look back
she’s just a ******* hypocrite

blue as the ocean
from the inside out
it’s hurts so bad
to try and love myself
i’ve gotten used to being sad
with tear filled eyes
i’m starting to appreciate
how it turns them to a
gentle shade of blue

i don’t know how to write anymore
no words
come to my head other than i miss you
it’s all been said before
poems have been written
songs have been played
no wishes can be granted for this broken heart to go away
all i ask is for this baggage to be lifted off my shoulders
no one taught me how to let go
i cling to our memories like my life depends on it
i don’t know how to be me without you because i thought it would always be us in the end
but you left me crying in my room that one october stripped of my self worth
now every time i think
i’m getting better
i look in the mirror and see those blue eyes you said you loved and can’t help but think that’s the last thing you saw before you decided to leave me

let’s go back to the night we were torn from each other
let’s follow the signs the universe showed us to avoid such depressing events
i think back to that time and know how our love could have survived if we weren’t so young and reckless
as i mature and grow, i’ve learned it wasn’t our fault
our love was pure but the world could never accept us, and sometimes still won’t
so when i dream of you and i, do you see me in yours too?
i still have my dreamcatcher we shared
and it’s always latching on to you…

it all makes sense now
did i not see it from the beginning?
how could it have been love
when my pen and paper always ended up empty…

i learn ways to enjoy life without you
i’ve stopped putting creamer in my coffee
the dark brew reminds me of your eyes
i run every morning
my shortness of breath
reminds me of your name
i spend more time reading
our love had me at a loss for words
you taught me to appreciate life more
because some things cannot stay
i’m starting to pick up new habits, but you’re still stuck in my old ways

we exchange glances across the room
i still remember the first time i met you
even though it was just three months ago
and we’ve only hung out three times
still i just want you to be my girlfriend
because i heard third times the charm

how embarrassing it is to have feelings
i don’t want them anymore
take them away
leave me beside
there’s no room left
in my jumbled up life
so take my thoughts,
my feelings,
my pride,
and leave me alone
with you in my mind

i’m sorry i left you behind
i must have lost my mind
you’ve been my only friend
when my world comes to an end
my hand drifts towards a pen
and i rewrite my life again
i never know where to begin
but i always find myself, writing again

She paints me as a dream even as I see my flaws beneath the decorated canvas
Shes plays my heart, string for string and I might have thought she had been playing all her life
Love wasn’t something I knew before her, it’s like I was living in grey scale and she was the first thing I saw in color
The other day I saw a red bird perched on my balcony
I thought to text her and tell her in that moment I knew
I didn’t believe in signs from God until I saw her and then they started appearing at my door to sing me good morning
For a while I was convinced there wasn’t anyone who could know me like this
My heart is a sink full of ***** dishes I always distract myself from cleaning, but she listens
I’m not much of a love poet, but if I were to decide to write about love,
it would be about her