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alexis Jul 2021
I picture your arms around me
Caressing my hair behind my ear
Oh what I would for you to really be here

I’d cross the seven seas just to see you smile
Just to feel your warm embrace I’d walk a hundred miles
Just to see you for a while those are the things I’d do
Because nothing, truly nothing, compares to seeing you
alexis Jul 2021
I truly over-romanticize
I think about them day and night
And it isn’t wise

Because I know I’m not crossing their mind
So why can’t they leave mine?

The idea of them dances around in my head
From the moment I wake up
To the moment I go to bed

Oh to have my dreams come true
I don’t know what I’d do
If I were to finally be with you
Sarah Flynn Oct 2020
my first love was young rebellion
and how it made me feel.
my second love was abuse.

I have been asked,
on more than one occasion,
how I could fall in love with
a man who I was scared of.

my masochism was
inside of me for years
before I admitted to it.
I like to talk about how
I didn’t know that it was
wrong for him to hurt me,
but somewhere deep in the
back of my young mind,
I did know.
I realize that now.

I realize now that
maybe I enjoyed it.
maybe that was part of it,
my own fantasies leaking
through the cracks of my
innocent, good girl persona.
or maybe I truly believed
that his abuse was
all I deserved.

my childhood had taught me that
I broke everything that I touched.
I came from a broken household
with a broken family.
I broke both of my legs at one time,
and started the next school year
with two bright casts.
I broke toys that weren’t mine,
and ceramic dishes that
I threw down too hard,
and the hinges of every
bedroom door that I slammed shut.
I broke hearts, including my own.

when I fell in love,
I had finally met someone
with no conscience and
no concept of morality.

he was a sociopath,
a narcissist, an abuser.
he was the perfect
subject for my poetry,
and the perfect match
to my masochism.

I looked at him and wrote
that he was the diagnoses
that flooded the pages
of some therapist’s notes.
he was the embodiment
of the pain that he inflicted,
terrifying but somehow
too attractive to resist.

he was a love story
jotted down by a nihilist,
a black hole taking me
deeper and deeper.
he was a blank slate
that could not be
written over.

he was as empty as a bottle in
the hands of an alcoholic,
a freshly dug grave waiting
patiently for a body.

I worshipped him
like an absent father,
idolizing his image
as if I had only ever
known of his appearance
and normality and charm.
I acted as if I had no idea
that beneath the surface of his skin,
he was nothing more than
a living corpse.

if chaos theory is
as real as death, and
if I was never traumatized
and grew up happily,
I doubt that any of this
would have happened.
but it did.

whenever someone asks how
I could fall in love with
a man who I was scared of,
I tell them this.

I tell them that
I fell in love with him
because he was already
missing something inside.
his mind had glitched
somewhere in his past,
and then it failed to restart.
he did not feel emotions
the way that other people do.
I’m not sure if he could
feel anything at all.
he was already broken.

I fell in love with him
because he was the only thing
I had ever encountered that
I knew I couldn’t break.
Iska Sep 2020
There was a girl I loved
But that girl is no longer here.
She had a nerve of steel
Yet was bound by her fear.
Her hair was silken gold
Her eyes alight with passion

But then... she turned cold.
And form that moment on
The girl I loved was gone.

But then as it always will
The universe caught her soul
And breathed her back to life
And I met the girl
Who had been set free

And I realized
that while the girl I loved
Was now no longer here
This woman that she’s become
Is the one to be revered.

He soul is filled with stars
Her smile like the spring
Her nerve of steel remained
And her heart was still the same
You have grown in the best way possible
Olivia Daniels Jun 2019
You seem to be infatuated with it.
To you, the picture in your hand
is perfect and infallible.

I'm sorry to inform you,
your picture is faded
and torn around the edges.

It can be hard to see, unless
you pull it from the shadow
then hold it to the light,

but there's imperfection everywhere.
Sun spots and water marks
cover bits of the figure in the frame.

It really isn't worth as much as you thought,

but I hope you'll consider keeping it.
It looks good hung up on your wall.

I'm sorry to disappoint you.
ClawedBeauty101 Jun 2019
The life you want
Is not yours to have

The life you want
You believe would make you more glad

The life you want
You covet and try to steal away

The life you want
Is not yours to claim

The life you want
Is all my life is


The life you want
Would be two of mine

My life is what you want!
You've crossed the line

The life you want
Prohibits me from being special

The life you want
Will only fire missiles

The life you want
I can not understand

When the life you want
Is everything I am...
I have not comment for this poem

I'm so tired of myself
IP Feb 2018
I idolized you.
my idle lies
don't begin to explain away
the way I explained away
the way you walked away
though I know you are not
what I say
though eyes close
I cannot push you away
lex Oct 2017
my idol
makes me so incredibly happy
since i aspire to be like her
and i know very well
that that might not happen
my thoughts are flooded with
and even more tears want to come
because i aspire
but know
it probably won't happen
it's hard to love someone, even without knowing them.
Guen Sy May 2016
they take pictures for u
paint portraits
and write
all i can do is pray
that someday youd notice
the future i built
supposedly for u
& i
IP Mar 2017
I wasted so much time on you
the way I idolized
it's  true
and now,
I actually
kind of regret you

— The End —