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Mar 2020
I N T R O D U C T I O N
HOW TO EXPRESS LOVE

“Some call it bewitched, but I call it love.
There is an emptiness in the freedom of being alone,
And liberty in being caught in that divine spell.”

I have been here before, and with this pen, I express myself through words.
To better understand myself, and to avoid being misunderstood.
The day that I stop writing love poetry is the day that my pen's ink will run out,
Along with my sense of connection to humanity.
Love is hard, and even more difficult to describe,
Too complex to express simply by stringing words together.
Yet here I am, trying over and over,  
Always feeling limited, unfulfilled, and unsatisfied.

I have been here before, trying to express my feelings when in love.
It is frustrating, and most attempts are ripped apart and disposed of.
I have been trying to describe love for years, and still feel unsatisfied,
The countless filled notebooks are evidence of all the times that I have tried.
I cannot find how to put it simply but in a beautiful way,
I could write about it for hours and hours, from night until day.
But to fully understand love, I must reflect back and see,
How I love, how I was loved, and how I love me.
____________

P A R T  O N E
HOW I LOVE

I have been here before, I am comforted by love's familiarity,
Its pleasantness, shining like rays of sun, enveloping me in warmth and sincerity.
Its floral fragrance in the form of beautiful golden sunflowers,
Bundled with red ribbon at the stems, followed by conversations that go on for hours.
Its sweet taste in the form of kisses all over my cheeks and face,
Until there is not a spot that his lips have not touched, and I point lower to a different space.
I want more but I am too timid to say,
But my rosy cheeks and bashfulness give it away anyway.

But, I've also been here before, reminiscing on this familiarity,
I am then reminded of the heartache that follows, and I get a sense of polarity.
The shattered promises of forever, and the final goodbyes,
The returning of sweaters that smell like him while holding back desperate cries.
The empty and cold interactions as he shuts the door behind him,
The sinking loneliness of standing alone in a room that is now too dim.
The racking sobs as my heart begs me to stop doing this to myself,
So, I take the thought of love, lock it in a box, and tuck it away on a high shelf.

But, I have been here before, knowing that I cannot stop,
Love is embedded deep inside of me, it is not something I can just drop.
My heart knows how capable I am to feel such raw emotions,
It flows gracefully through me, and soars with plummeting waves like the ocean.
My heart demands to spark a flame in the one who ignited these feelings inside of me,
It yearns to douse them with loving adoration and unwavering loyalty.
It demands to be expressed, through every form of self-expression that I use,
Whether that is poetry, painting, music, or whatever outlet I choose to let loose.
____________

P A R T  T W O
HOW TO LOVE ME

I long to be cherished for not only who I am, but who I was, and how I came to be,
So instead of writing about love, I will write about how to better love me.
I have not been here before, so I will take it slow,
If it helps you better understand me, please let me know.
This is for you, if you want to love me,
It is complex and it may not come immediately.

Please understand that it will take time,
For you to love me the way that I need, this is not just a rhyme.
This is new to me, I have not been here before,
If it makes you see the real me, for you I will write more.
I have not been here before, but I am still using the same pen,
If you follow my trail of disorganized thinking, please nod every now and then.

I am honest, and I will never lie.
I want you to be my best friend before being my guy.
I want to build a sense of familiarity, to know about you and your life.
I want consistent communication so we can avoid all strife.
I want passion and longing, the magnetic pull between our lips as they unify.
I want "I love you"s to be meaningful, not fillers when our conversation dies.

He must know that the "he" in this story, could also be a she,
My ability to love isn't limited by appearances that fade with time, life’s bittersweet guarantee.
He must know my personality, strengths, goals, and my dreams,
And when we fight, he must remember that we are not on opposing teams.
He must know how to support me and my life goals, how to motivate me,
When the coldness of the world makes me search for ways to escape reality.


He must want the best for me, for me to be happy, even if that is not by his side,
If we realize that we are not compatible, or our relationship makes us feel unsatisfied.
He must know my weaknesses, my flaws,
My tendency to push away when overwhelmed, and how to find the probable cause.
He must know that though I love to care for others, I am not great at caring for my own body.
My self-destructive nature has a story of its own, and it is not shared with everybody.
____________

P A R T  T H R E E
HOW I WAS LOVED

I have been here before, and with the same pen, I tell him about my life,
Like the times I fought bare-****** against life’s merciless and cold knife.  
I am not a hero, not even in my own story,
But I am not one to boast or seek any type of glory.
I have grown and matured from my battles, so do not be afraid,
There is no reason for you to rush to my aid.
I find myself apologizing for the scars that I embedded on my own skin,
Sometimes it was easier to find comfort at the bottom of my bottle of gin.
I am withered, no longer beautifully brand-new,
So I apologize for sometimes randomly feeling sad out of the blue.

I have been here before, and with the same pen, I try to help him understand me,
I am bound by my demons, and can't remove the shackles that would set me free.
He feels a need to fix me, as if I were a broken wine glass,
I bring attention to the glass pieces on the floor that he should avoid and overpass.
He thinks that sweet words could be the glue to adhere my shards together,
And praises the curvature of my body, accentuated by a jacket made of leather.
He believes that he could love me more than anyone else has, and by doing so, he would mend me,
I quietly sigh, close my eyes, and slowly count to three.



I have been here before, and with the same pen, I try to make him see,
My broken pieces are not meant to be picked up by fragile hands, nor by anybody.
He learns this when the sharp sting of glass runs along the tips of his digits,
Understanding that my scarred fingers were from all the attempts I made when I felt brave and ambitious.
Trust me — I know how much it hurts, I do not want you to share my pain,
I know that I am a sad girl, but still, some happiness remains.
I want to embrace this darkness, my ability to feel emotions so immense,
My dear, there is no need to put your fists up in defense.

I have been here before, and I watch him try to fit the pieces together,
But they are merciless and weigh much more than a feather.
They are not a puzzle, they do not even fit me anymore,
But he becomes frustrated, exclaiming that this is more than he asked for.
I try to make him understand that they do not define me,
I only want them to be a visual for my story, I do not need them to feel free.
I want him to see my past and my struggles laid on the table,
Only then he will know how strong the roots are that ground me and keep me stable.


I have been here before, and I don't feel like rhyming anymore,
It took me a long time to understand myself and what I stand for.

He thinks I am a broken wine glass, but he does not understand.
The glass shards that lay before him are all of the times I've lost a piece of myself;
The innocence that I clung to for so long, and had to let go of in order to survive and adapt.
The ideologies of supportive families, shattered by abusive alcoholics that no one questioned.
The expectations of loving and supportive friends, broken by betrayal and abandonment.
The life that I once knew, had to leave behind, and the shock that crackled my perspective and forever changed me.





I have been here before, and with the same pen, I try to reassure him,
But he is drowning in my sorrows and has forgotten how to swim.
He feels a need to scare away my demons, and cure what plagues my mind,
He becomes frightened by my pain and wants to protect me, so he covers my eyes.
But my self-destructive nature was never his job to correct,
I try to show him that I am grateful, I never meant any disrespect.

I have been here before, and with the same pen, I express that I am his equal and that we are the same,
I am not expecting him to be anything more than he is, I am not a helpless dame.
But he feels that it is his duty as a man to complete me, to support me, to give me a reason to smile.
I put down my pen, and stare into his eyes for a while.


Though I may be broken, I am complete on my own.
The only support I want is holding hands as we walk side by side, not in the form of you carrying me.
Our world is beautiful enough to make me smile, I only want to enjoy it alongside you.
____________

P A R T  F O U R
HOW I LOVE ME

I have been here before, and I have been through all that.
For 23 years, so that makes me stronger than you.
I am better equipped to deal with certain things on my own,
Those broken pieces are not even a part of me anymore.
My demons do not need to be slain by a knight in shining armor, because they are more scared of me.
They know what I've overcome, and know that I will not take **** from anybody.

I've been here before, and with the same pen, I acknowledge my strength,
I've rebuilt the walls of my broken wine glass exterior with precise width and length.
I designed them using the knowledge that I gained from where I went wrong,
I shaped and molded them with the experiences that taught me how to be strong.
And I planted flowers that blossomed when nourished by my own self-determination,
I spent many years adding to the durable and unbreakable flooring and foundation.
I painted the inner walls crimson red, and hung golden accents from the ceiling,
And laid down mats for meditating when I am hurting and need healing.

I have been here before, and I've created this for myself,
I will invite you in, if you'd like to see it for yourself.
I am strong, I am intelligent, and I hope to be more brave,
But I am a lover and a fighter, so please don't think that I need to be saved.
I want to share this beautiful experience of life with you,
But it is not a journey that you have to carry me through.
We will put on comfortable shoes and make our way together,
And we'll prepare for obstacles, challenges, and unpleasant weather.

I have been here before, and I see that look in his eyes,
The corners of his lips curl down and he feels the need to apologize.
I don't need an apology, or for you to change who you are,
Let's enjoy our time together and have a cigar.
The universe granted us to cross paths for a reason,
So please enjoy the warm weather with me this season.

There are so many beautiful sights out there,
I don't care what we do, or where we go, we can go to Times Square!
As long as I am by your side, and you love me,
In the purest and passionate form, it would make me so happy.
Put the other headphone in and listen to this song,
I think now that you better understand me, you can do no wrong.
I put my pen down as we listen along,
I dedicate a playlist to him, filled with love songs.

I have been here before, and even though my pen is down,
It seems that I cannot and will not stop expressing love.
Dahlia
Written by
Dahlia  26/F/Canada
(26/F/Canada)   
806
     JaxSpade
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