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Nina Jul 2019
I didn't believe in love at first sight
Til the moment I met you
fray narte Jun 2019
the thing with falling in love with a poet
is that only the heartbreak is good enough
to qualify as poetry.
all the roller-coaster rush
and the picnics on the hill
and the first time your hands brush together
on your first date and they take yours
to fill the gaps between their finger,
and the aimless walks looking for
somewhere to eat
and the first time they said i love you
but it wasn’t perfect
so they’d written you a poem
because that seemed closer
to perfect
than those three words —
somehow, at some point,
all of these gets overlooked
like words in a history book
he wouldn’t read even if he was stuck with it in a dream.

the thing with falling in love with a poet
is that it is falling in love with a stranger
who writes poetry at 8 am or 10 pm, hoping
to find his lover back in front of him
when he reaches the last word and raises up his head.
it is falling in love
with someone whose walls seem to echo
the first time they said i love you
three years ago,
it is falling in love with someone
who could still be writing about the love of his life
and sometimes, the consonants
in her name
look like the
vowel in yours
but it’s not you, honey,
it’s just
not you.

he said i shouldn’t mistake
falling in love with his words
for falling in love with him,
so i thought
how could that be, when his words
were the words i wanted to kiss?
how could that be, when he was
the poetry i wanted to read?

one time,
i asked him if he would write me a poem
if he ever fell out of love.

and he said he would never fall out of love.

and he did.

without any warning —
without any melancholic farewell,
or messy kisses on the kitchen floor,
or desperate pleads for us to stay.
he fell out of love with me —
without writing any heartbreak poem;

but then again, maybe it was because
all heartbreak poems, even if it was us falling apart,
would still be written for you.

the night he left,
he forgot to take his poetry collection
all written in the tattered pages
of that black notebook i got him,
and it was full of pages folded in halves
and it was full of your name in lazy scribbles
and it was full of his words
wanting you back.

it was the night we broke up
yet it was still you, breaking his heart —

it was the night he decided he could no longer pretend
he loved me.
it was the night he decided he could no longer pretend
i was you.
An attempt at a spoken poetry piece
Nina May 2019
I've known you for 70 days
Within those 70 days
I've grown interest in you
I've fallen in love with you
I've become happier when I'm with you
I've started to miss you
I wanted us to be more than friends
But it took us 70 days
To fall apart

70days is such a short period of time
But the bond we had
The countless meetup and calls we shared
Was worth more than 70days
But i guess we weren't faithed to be together
Those 70days i had with you
Was the greatest moment I've ever had
And I'll never forget a single day

It took me 70days to fall in love
And 70days to fall out of love
Restu Taurina May 2019
it’s 3 AM in the morning and my thoughts are wandering to the day when i finally meet the one that I’m going to marry

it will be Tuesday
i bet that i'll wake up 27 minutes late 'cause i spend the night before going out with my girls
i'll have too much gin and even drunk dialed my ex-boyfriend on my way home
the next morning, my head probably hurts like hell
i'll forget to put my highlighter on 'cause it's nowhere to be found
clock's ticking, i'll grab my favorite elephant heels and drive past the street
i'll stop by at my favorite coffee shop and you'll be arriving exactly 5 seconds before that
you'll open the door and hold it up for me,
i won't forget to say thank you
we'll order the same coffee and share a quick smile at the cashier
you'll smell like a sweet sunset
i'll notice your brown eyes, not knowing that i'll be looking at them everyday for the rest of my life
you'll share a bad joke to me, it is bad i must admit
but we'll laugh anyway and secretly hoping to see each other again the next day

and we will be
and the day after that
and everyday for the next two months

we will fall in love, easily
and i'll be grateful for waking up 27 minutes late that Tuesday morning
Slice-of-Cake Jun 2018
when with you,
trouble seem to melt away

i do not know what its called
is it puppy love?
a true love?
or worst, only a dream?

that i know..

it took a long time,
to complete my algebra assignment
it took a long time,
to get out of my bed in the morning
it took a long time,
to mix and match the clothes I would wear


it just a second,
to knows that I'm start to lovin' you
hey, enjoy^^
Never fall in love with a poet
For you might forget your true self
Cos they paint a different picture of you
And make you feel like someone else

Is it true or is it lies?
How can you truly know?
They give you a taste of the high
So when they leave, you’re really low

They tell you things you never heard
And even words you can’t pronounce
They make you fall real deep
And then they expect you to bounce

Never fall in love with a poet
Or you’d have to put their heart together
Their broken heart belongs to someone else
And Some pieces would be gone forever
Never fall in love with a poet. By Moore
love poem
Slice-of-Cake Sep 2017
I knew, you're not mine
I knew, you had someone
I am self-awareness

But sorry,

I can't handle this feelings
I falls for you everytime I remember you
My heart's envy when you told about yours

I wasn't love you.
Perhaps I just wants to having you,
not only as friend.
Just sharing what I feel inside rn.
Aislinn Miell Sep 2017
I observe the current of clamour from the far corner, over there
wishing I would blend with the limp air
And soak into the absence far away.

So, don’t ask me why
It’s in my nature to be shy
Just leave these flawed bones to decay...

even so, I didn’t ask for your kindness
It’s just an act muffled with blindness
I know it could never be true.

I have learnt not to trust those who are nice to me
Eventually they will push me away, out to sea
waiting for the waves to break through.

Yet my body tingles with this burdensome  feeling
This sensation blooming inside is unappealing...
all I can do is blame it on you.

Blame it on the way you walk
Or the way you stumble when you talk
Or the way your hair sits on your forehead.

Blame it on the way you smile with your eyes
Or the way you stare up into the skies
Or the way your ears can turn bright red.

But by all else above,
Blame it on the way you made me fall in love.
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