Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
I can convince myself Of a lot of things. I can hyper analyse Until I see the sense. It may be unpleasant But it is better Than no answer, Or holding falsity. But there are two things I cannot puzzle out. My Savior’s love, and his. When will it stop? I hold my intuition. Am I simply Romanticising it— This space between. Did I make him up? Did he make me up? Are we both holding Onto the versions We imagined?
0
3d ago
Jun 1, 2026 at 2:05 AM UTC
a puzzle
I can convince myself Of a lot of things. I can hyper analyse Until I see the sense. It may be unpleasant But it is better Than no answer, Or holding falsity. But there are two things I cannot puzzle out. My Savior’s love, and his. When will it stop? I hold my intuition. Am I simply Romanticising it— This space between. Did I make him up? Did he make me up? Are we both holding Onto the versions We imagined?
Written by
3d ago
Jun 1, 2026 at 2:05 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem