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Jhamarie Mar 4
I keep it hidden every feeling deep
A private space where my emotions sleep
I say your name in silent, gentle ways
And build a world of remembered days.
The easy thing would be to tell you
that he wasn’t special,
that there are plenty of fish in the sea,
that time heals everything.
Half-truths,
empty phrases.

But if you want honesty,
I know how hard it is to have your heart broken.
When you gave everything,
more than you could afford to lose.

When you gave so much,
you almost lost yourself.
I tell you this because I’ve been there,
where the soul bleeds without end,

Where the days turn gray
just by wondering
what you did wrong
to make him leave.
Where you waited for that call,
that voice saying he wanted to talk,
that you still deserved to walk together,
side by side.

But now, I want to tell you,
life goes on,
even with a broken heart.
You’ll hear songs that tell your story,
but one day, it will just be a story forgotten.

One day, you’ll say his name without pain,
but with gratitude.
Because he made you stronger
than you already were.

Because life and destiny
will lead you to real love.

But today,
conquer yourself with the same passion.
Give yourself
all the love you were ready to give.
Take yourself to dinner,
dress up,
buy yourself gifts.

Love yourself like no one ever has.
Want yourself like no one ever did.
Desire yourself like no one ever will.
Sorry, but with this poem,
I scratched the wound, and it started bleeding again.
Are you familiar with the phrase, "Looks like your mom dressed you?"
That’s what I see when I look at you
Not because of the clothes, but because of the care.
And that’s what makes me love you the most.

I show it in how much I care.
I offer to buy you lunch when I know you’ve had a long day.
And still, you have the energy to talk to me the way you do
The way you make me feel like I am family.

Your words are a comfort you don’t realize I need.
And while there’s nothing wrong with Mom,
Babe, your dad raised you right.
He taught you that the world is tough
That to get a single thing you want,
You have to go through so much.
And still, you tell yourself that everything is going to be okay.
I know because I live it, and it’s easy to see.
Babe, you carry your father’s strength.

You love me protectively.
You make space for me.
You save room for me.
It’s rare to find a woman like you.
Every time you leave,
I’m already waiting to see your face again.

I love the way you were raised
augustine Jun 2013
She was the girl who would look up from her food at lunch,
just to observe everyone.
And the one who would want to share her writing with the one she liked,
but wouldn't out of fear of them not liking it.
The one you would find sitting alone on her bed
and 4 am
listening to music and staring at the moon.
She's the one who would be reading in the library
hoping someone would spot her and fall in love, just like that.
She's the one who would keep dead roses until they gathered so much dust
you thought they were gray.
Her bed side table had books and coffee or tea cups strung about.
The one who would sleep all day just to stay up
and watch the sunset on her roof, silently smoking a cigarette.
If you think this girl is happy, maybe i should have done a better job at explaining her.
Jente Feb 22
Raindrops keep falling, falling, falling—
like fists on the skin, like words that sting,
like echoes of war we never meant to sing.
But we do. Again and again.

Like it's all we know.
We are born with fire, right?
Hearts pounding, souls burning,
raw, real, reaching for something—
but somehow, we forget.

We learn to wound before we learn to heal.
We learn to take before we learn to give.
We learn that power means stepping on necks,
not lifting up hands.

And it cycles, cycles, cycles.
One person bleeds, another turns cold.
One get's broken, another breaks more.
We think we've built a world,
but really, we've built a cage.

More, we chant. More, more, more.
More money. More fame. More things.
But does more ever mean enough?
Or does it just mean less of us?

Less love. Less truth. Less seeing—
because we are to busy chasing illusions, to look in each other's eyes.
And maybe, just maybe.
The answer isn't bigger, or louder, or richer.

Maybe the answer is softer.
Maybe it's choosing to hold instead of hit.
Maybe it's breaking the cycle—
before it breaks us all.

Raindrops keep falling, falling, falling.
But we don't have to drown.
Jay Feb 20
The person you hate
You love them but dislike all their ways
The person you hate
You need distance, but feels boxed up, contained
The person you hate
“Exposes you” and makes you feel all ashamed
The person you hate
Your trying your best to keep from going insane
The person you hate
Everyone’s telling you, you have all their traits
The person you hate
Surrender to Jesus, get on your knees and pray
The person you hate  
I know you’re in a storm now, just wait for better days.
Be honest, how do you feel about my poem.
I love, I love
Yes, I love to love
Like a genius in deep love
Like a fool in sick love
I love like no one ever loves
Like I love watching the doves
Drifting up and down in the sky
Below and above the clouds
Whether the weather is wet or dry
Below and far from the shrouds.

It is not a mistake to love
I don’t love just for Valentine
I love every single day and that’s fine
It is an incredible experience
Coming straight from above
Yet, there’s no obvious difference
Like a genius in sick love
Like a fool in deep love
I love, I love
Yes, I love to love.


Copyright © May 2024, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.
Millee Feb 9
even though the sun sets
and is swallowed by the night,
its light prevails against the darkness,
just as you can too
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