Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Taija Apr 2018
I hope you read this.
I hope when you hear these words,
your stomach becomes upset.
I hope that you spend time,
reading every poem I’ve sent.
I hope hearing this kills you.
none of the poems I’ve written, ones about falling in love, ones about being in love, and even falling out of love,
have never been about you.
frankly, because I never loved you.

t.h.
Aa Harvey Apr 2018
A collection of ‘Love is…’ Poetry
Porcupine


True love is not believed in anymore.
I am the last believer.
Love is not believed in anymore,
We are the last believers.


(C)2017 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Clara E Apr 2018
When I'm drunk and dancing it's like no ounce of sadness could enter my body.
Feelings of insecure pavilions can't grow here like the mountainous structures of unturned love affairs they often turn out to be.
The lights go down and I find purity in being invisible, replaying, relaying all the unrequited sadness at its most human.
Time here doesn't count. We've left the world daring, as an unfortunate thing that needs no sense or matter to put it to rest. Here we're all too trusting.
If abandoned steps of forgotten shopping malls, lips in ear, or new found friendships entrenched in cups of coffee could show us anything it's that people never last and feelings harbour longer than I ever wished they would.
Abigail Hobbs Apr 2018
"When can I see you again?"
almost graced my lips
But I am not one
for romantic clichés
But maybe I should've
uttered those words
Before I hesitated
walking out that door
Only because I wondered
when I'd see you again
Maybe I should've
Because it was the last time
I'd see you.
2/12/18
Taija Apr 2018
The sound of your heart beating is liking a ringing in my ear; playing for hours, upon hours. The regular thump of it engraved into my brain.

It sounds of a broken faucet,
letting droplets of water,
drip out one by one.

On nights when I cannot close my eyes, your beating heart plays through my head and I fall deeply, not only into sleep, but in love.

t.h.
Nayana Nair Apr 2018
When you think you are holding onto
the last shred of yourself,
don’t spend it on the
words that have been long lost in the air,
on the gazes that the eyes have long forgot.
Keep it safe for yourself.
You have lost bigger things than love
and you have still lived well.
And a broken heart is something
that everyone needs in life.
Karisa Brown Apr 2018
Where is my creativity
There's a giant black boulder
Sitting in between

Move this
Let me free
But who has the keys

You'll have to look
On my sleeve
Next page