Romantic Love has always been ironically, over romanticized for me.
It just appeared to be too much
Too cartoonishly blissful
This could be from a life of witnessing too much romantic hurt
Too much of the flip side of what romantic love could do.
The loss of trust
All the broken pieces
So I never felt it was something worth seeking
It was cute
It was good for movies
But now I guess I get it
Love songs have a bit of a deeper meaning now
And I get the bliss.
Bliss, blissful, love, hope, security, songs, hurt
This is my brain on drugs
This is my brain in love
The high is so good
To feel understood
To feel so secure by your touch
When I wake up and thank Jesus for another day
I feel guilty, as I wrestle
to keep thoughts of you at bay.
Tho I always win
You're my whiskey, my gin
And I reach for you after I pray.
I was just thinking about the science behind falling in love and hope it affects us on a chemical level.
singing* You just called me, "Beautiful."
Now you've got to be mine foreverrr.... (2x)
--repeats in background for duration of poem--
You just called me--
I hate that it's so easy.
Now you've gotta be mine foreh--I hate that its so easy to please me
when you say things
that makes me think that you see me
as who I want to be
and the way you say it,
it -it touches me
I want to believe
-You just called me...
I want to trust you
I want to believe your intentions are true
and its not me in a fantasy
but its you just
you just called me beautiful
All you did was call me, "beautiful."
but your words spoke to my soul
cause I know you know things about me that I don't like to show
and I think you've dug something up in me
that was unknown
now you've gotta be mine foreh--*
You see? Now you've gotta be mine
cause I'm too fragile
I'm too exposed
you can't break into my heart
and unlock all these doors
that've been guardin who knows?
no, this is a two person job
you shoulda watched how you talked.
and now you're mine.
you gotta be mine.
you gotta be mine.
you gotta be mine. *repeats till fades out
This poem sorta erupted when a soulful song came up on my playlist and I sorta ran with this beat that I started humming. I think it's oddly a little dark. We don't really know if the speaker has found someone genuine or if for some reason she just falls for someone that seems to say the right thing but nevertheless she's hooked and she now somewhat depends on this person's affection because they brought something out of her that had been hidden for a long time. This was fun!
Kept sittin my notebook by my bed like I was about to write
Thought it would motivate me
All it did was make me feel guilty every night
Sittin there mockin me
Making me feel like less than myself
Like I lost all my artistry
I didnt start cause I didnt believe in me, honestly.
Like if Im gonna write it has to be special
It has to say something
Live beyond my life expectancy
Be better than my last piece of poetry.
So I didnt.
And it sat there.
Quiet light of moon
Quiet cars along the road
--Go'n be home soon
Quiet AC on too late
Quiet humming charger in the outlet
Quiet bathroom 'cross the hall, water dripping from the faucet
Quiet floors while set'ling in
You're too old for all that whinin'
Quiet creatures awake before the sun
The signals when it's shinin'
Quiet indistinguishable shadow still yet so foreboding
Oh, you're just a pile of clothes that I never got to folding
Quiet drafty window singing with such vigor and such soul
Catch a chill from that night air
Might catch a runny nose
Quiet thoughts-that handsome stranger, worries, deadlines, dreams, 'n stuff
Quiet bedtime playlist streaming
Clearly you were'nt good enough
Quiet poem bursting from me my
Admonition of defeat
too much quiet-
quiet, would you let me sleep?
I used to loathe when tired, those who erred to disregard the pull of thoughts towards the complexities that make us who we are. Or perhaps the tug they never feel, the stinging ***** within the soul. That scratch that must be raked by nails until one feels they fin'lly "know."
I loathed the hedonist's sweet relief
The gratification and tunneled vision
The scarless frames, the husks they may be,
The innocence of things unseen-
I once would wish that I could be so null to that which mattered most. Its relative, but even still I wished that I was like those folks.
This is the first poem I've ever written that was a random prompt (owned existence) as well as written without editing (I hit backspace only twice! Thats an achievement) and as SOON as I questioned it I saved it
You make me smile somewhere deep
Where I'm more me