For years I thought I knew how love would be.
I waited for it, anticipated it.
And even longed for it.

You see, I had this idea.

He was this, and he was that.
He liked this, and he liked that.
And I'd love him, and he'd love me.
And in the end, that's how it would be.

But I was wrong.

First of all, love was a she.

She was...
She liked...

Well, it didn't matter anymore did it?

Love was Love...

...and She was it.

Poetic T Jul 26

I have no paper but
my mind is like sand.

Where other thoughts
erode the original with
graffiti of useless anythings

I have no paper but i'll
hang on to this piece till
my mind doodles over it again.

Dark Delusion Jul 11

I’m running out of ideas.
They never come to me.
I have to find them.
But they’re all just the same.
                            I don’t need help.
Going from place to place.
I always end up in the same spot.

Writing and writing.
Just to throw it away.

I light a cigarette.
Lean back and relax.

Clear my mind of everything.
But everything's the same.

I have a place for all my ideas.
But there’s nothing for me to find.
                                     It’s broken and old.
I’m left with only one thing on my mind,
And that’s filling up the empty jar I still hold on to.

A little unique thought in your mind,
Can change the world,
The hidden potential you are trying to find,
Can change how clouds twirl,
Rich or poor,
It can change lives,
It is the future,
The greatest,
To solve any dilemma,
All you need,
Is an idea.

My observstio
Zenith Jun 21

I am a person;
a person who deserves to be loved.
But that does not mean
you get to obsess over me
like I am an object.
There's no need for you to want me obsessively.

Love is not an obsession.
Love is not an obsession.
Love is not an obsession.
Love is not an obsession.

written to the boy who is obsessed only with the idea of me on june 20th
Diána Bósa Jun 18

Like splitting the atom I
split myself until nothing
remains but the idea
of me in your head.

allie Jul 31

i was a colour
that flew in the bright sky
the bright brilliant blue
i sometimes clashed
clashed with grey and white
but soon enough
i kept going

you were grey
dark grey
and i made my
first mistake.
instead of moving on
curling and dancing around you
i stopped and chatted

my second mistake
i thought you were different
so i let you in
and you dampened my bright colour
you took the piece you stole
and i thought nothing of it

my third mistake
i let you in a bit more
and i told you a secret
and showed something
i shouldn't have
i gave something up
and thought
you were special

my last mistake
my colour
is fully grey now
i am a burden
a sorrow
that no one bothers
no one cares about me
and i don't care
i'm a numb mindless
in a field of bright colour.

all i want now
is the idea
of love
of safety
of caring
of living
but now
i'm a bitch
a slut
a whore
a hoe
a robot

i miss
my colours

sorry for the profane language ---
i'm probably gonna delete this when i'm not feeling so emotional. it's really personal and i don't really enjoy writing about this, but i needed to get this off my chest.
WRITTEN: 6/7/2017
Atul Kaushal May 29

I really have no idea,
No hint about who lost more,
But I surely lost my dear.

My HP Poem #1561
©Atul Kaushal
Next page