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How can one be that obsessed with someone?
How could anyone in the whole world wake up one day
With the eagerness to see just one face for the rest of their life?
How could anyone grab oranges and not even think of eating them as soon as they touch their hands
Because they can’t think of anything else but getting home to share them with someone?
How, how, how?

Why do I feel like the sun is not bright enough if I don’t get to see your smile?
Why does chocolate taste like charcoal when I’m not eating it with you?
And why do I go out of my way to have the pillow always ready for your head,
Because I’m scared your thoughts might drift away and lie to your face about how beautiful you are?
Why, why, why?

What is it that makes me want to write you poems,
Even when the alphabet of my life is missing the letters y, o, and u?
What is it that screams at me to wash your shoes,
When mine look like dirt was made for them?
What is it that runs through my veins every time the stars you call eyes
Look through the cloth I call soul?
And I know it’s more than blood, and I know it’s more than love.

My love, how can someone beg for you
In the middle of the night, between the sheets of a broken work of art?
My Lord, how can someone love with such clouds and lilies in the park,
And chamomile tea in the morning, while you fill up my heart?
Sometimes I think I just write everything I wish someone would say to me
Let me paint you a picture.

Red glasses filled with empty words.
Mirrors that don’t catch your reflection.
Blue and white lilies covering the floor—a floor I once knew.
It is the same floor I spend half of my days crying on.

There’s music.
Music filling the voids of an empty space where my heart was supposed to be.
It resonates through every cavity, through every bone, but my dead soul cannot hear it.
The blood is no longer running through my veins,
And my lips—once filled with love and affection—are as dark as the moment.
How easy is it to die of a broken heart?
Is it really broken? Or am I going crazy while I watch it fall and shatter around my lily-covered floor?

I crawl to pick up the pieces,
And I cut myself on every little bit,
But there’s nothing coming out of my fingers—just the sorrow of a few tears.

Empty.
Empty body, empty eyes, empty mind, empty soul of mine.
Should I remake my heart? Should I get the glue and put it all together again?
Or should I just keep cutting myself with the pieces?

Maybe I should let it be as it is.
There’s beauty in a broken heart.
I wrote this up in the bus on my way to work after hearing “Comptine d’un autre été, l’après-midi”
There’s something about the black woman in I.

There’s something about the Black woman in I that I can’t figure out.
And there was a time where I spent my days basking in this not knowing situation.
A time when I blamed the men and women around me—
The people who couldn’t see what I wanted them to see but…
How would they see what I can’t?

I kept crying about how disrespectful ****** were to me,
How the women around me didn’t understand the feeling of not feeling enough,
How I blamed myself for everything that was happening because of me.
And yes,
If it was because of me,
Then I am at fault
And should blame myself for it.
But the picture is bigger than that.
It’s tougher than that.
It’s darker than that.

A few years later,
There’s still something about the Black woman in I that I can’t figure out.

Always complacent.
Always trying to be soft after a life of being the hardest rock.
Always trying to be mellow jazz when I was the heaviest metal.
Always trying to be touched like a piano,
But I kept on being the drums.

I’m still my own weakness, you know?
Now I’m not lying to anyone—
I’m just lying to myself.
I walk in this made-up power that I’m supposed to have,
And I built a whole bridge out of it… but it always trembles.

    “You’re so beautiful for being a Black woman.”
    It trembles.
    “Oh, you’re so well-spoken for coming from the hood!”
    It trembles.
    “Are you sure you didn’t have any help making this?”
    It trembles.
    “You’ll never be like her.”
    And it trembles.

Still, I keep walking over that bridge because—
I need to fake it until I make it, right?
I’m so tired of faking it.
I’m so tired of feeling this way.
I’m tired of being policed over my blackness,
Over my hair and my body,
Over my womanhood and my mind,
Over my sad little soul.
Still, I keep going through it,
In the hopes that I find what I want to find in the end.

    “Oh, what do you want to find?”



Oh, dear heart.
We were supposed to walk on lilies and green grass.
I’m sorry that we can’t.

Eight years later,
There’s something about the black woman in I that I still can’t figure out.
And just like before…

I never will.
It’s so funny how you spend enough time forgetting something that once broke your heart in a thousand pieces
Erenn Apr 18
She entered like light, shimmering;
not the soft kind—
the kind that breaks through storm clouds,
uninvited, undeniable,
with a gaze that does not yield
There was fire in the way she stood still
As if silence bowed to her illumination
As if the world paused, just long enough
to take a breath around her bright presence

You’d think she's all thorns and torn—
but the truth is,
she holds more softness than most can carry
A kindness that doesn’t perform
It just exists
Like roots
Like rain on aching skin

She laughs like the sun forgotten it was tired
Unexpected. Wild. Unscripted.
A sound that stumbles into your chest
and stays there longer than it should
She doesn’t speak of what she’s survived
But you can see it in her eyes
In the way she doesn’t flinch anymore
In the way she still opens her heart
even when the world forgot to knock

When she loves—
there is no question
She loves in ways that re-write the meaning
No halves. No hesitations
Only the full ache of it
Only the surrender

And still, she stands—
not because it was easy,
but because she refused to disappear
She carved herself into something
unshakable
and beautiful
and entirely her own.
To know her
is to be reminded of life
Of how much light a soul can hold,
even after everything

And once you’ve seen her
truly seen her--
You never forget
You never want to



Erennwrites
Starla Mar 15
Lilies mean I dare you to love me,
Yet no one ever dared before.
She wore unworthiness like armour,
Too afraid to ask for more.

But then their souls collided softly,
A feeling whispered, old yet new.
As if their atoms once had danced,
As if her heart already knew.

Stargazers were her favourite flowers,
Pink petals stretching toward the sky.
She never thought she’d be deserving,
Yet he brought them—without a why.

He told her love was hard to give,
That words don’t spill from heart to tongue.
But every act, each quiet moment,
Spoke of love he left unsung.

The day he gave her stargazers,
She learned that she could bloom as well.
That love was not a war to fight,
But something safe where she could dwell.

Still, they have never said the words,
Three small ones locked behind their lips.
But love is felt in all the ways
That words may falter, break, or slip.

And if they never pass through her,
Then may they come from him instead.
For she could never bear to hear
“I love you” from another’s breath.
Her long hair cascades upon
Her face like silv'ry threads.
Her curious eyes wander
At everything she sees.
Her mind on her head,
Her nose buried in books.
I truly never knew what
She always searched for.
You'll never know what I wrote this about until you played.
A weak sailor was I,
When she caught my eye.
A beautiful lass,
Straight from the sea.
Fair skin,
Just like the petals of the water lily.
With blue eyes,
The color of ocean waves.

Thin figure,
Cast a shadow on the sunny summer bay.
Boy was she pretty,
The kind of girl an old fisher,
Would call his finest catch.
Sandy hair tied back,
Elegance like a species of ancient lore.

And I guess,
The water wasn't just what she was for.
For back on shore,
The boat club dance floor,
Wasn't quiet full without her.
The way she'd move,
Like a shiny fishing lure.
This is a remastered version of a summer poem I wrote a while ago. I know it's not summer yet, but I needed some summer sunshine.
Savio Fonseca Dec 2024
The Ocean with Her Songs and Freedom,
is like a Rose in the Desert Tonight.
The Night with all Her beauteous Wisdom,
is holding the Sky like the Wings of a Kite.
The Moon.......in all its Regal Splendour,
is a Ghost serenading the Dark Skies.
The Clouds are praying for Rain and Thunder.
As Mother Earth moans out hollow Sighs.
I shall wrap, all My Dreams in a White Paper
and carefully tie them, with a Yellow Bow.
Then lay them among the White Lilies,
that lie where the Wild Berries Grow.
Night grows, from the death of the Evening
and carries the Stars beneath Her Wings.
Morning wakes up, to the Dawn of Sunrise 
and Nightingales, are all ready to Sing.
How long will it take me to find you
I miss you already, I don’t even know you
Wishing my lucky stars to bring you into my arms
Rest your head my dear I’m ready for it all

After all I found out.
You’re the star guiding me
You’ve saved me already without knowing
I stand up straight to make you proud, can’t wait to tell you all my stories

Take your time
But know I’m waiting over here
Late at night, writing poetry soon all describe you
You’ll forever be mine

Everyone knows about you
Yet you're no closer than before
But as much as I love lilies
I could only fall for you more

I'm desperate to meet my colours
The ones you're unaware exist
My yellow, my saviour,
You blew all my blues away.

I've built our house and its forever green,
I've been in peace my red
When I met the black mysteries I wanted you more ,
After all you are my Lilly coloured white.

We'll hurt, but I promise to heal you
We'll fight, but I'll for always hold you
We'll laugh, it's the purple skies shining
We'll protect, keeping  it secret

Apart of me
Never apart
Don't take a piece of my heart
But take it all

Every inch of me will forever engrave your name
It's foolish to be in love
While still figuring out your name
I can't wait my white

By:Zoulaikha
Ackerrman Sep 2023
Far beyond the tall and snowy mountains,
Lies a place where men and women can dream
Wholesome, they fall in love by the fountains
And with passion, their eyes glisten and gleam.

Oh dream, dream, dream where water lilies sleep,
Oh dream, dream, dream where water lilies sleep

Where the waters whisper secrets of life,
The two suns are reflected in our eyes,
By the verge, I would ask you to my wife
And together we could live in the skies.

Oh dream, dream, dream where water lilies sleep,
Oh dream, dream, dream where water lilies sleep

To my love, heavenly matrimony,
Forever, as sweet as nectar in my ears,
Adoration could last eternity
And set ablaze to all our earthly fears.

Oh dream, dream, dream where water lilies sleep,
Oh dream, dream, dream where water lilies sleep,
Tell me all your secrets and I shall keep
Them with me, as the people of earth weep.

And now we are one and everlasting,
There is no one that can keep us apart,
The two suns are forever contrasting,
I shall live underwater with my heart.

Oh dream, dream, dream where water lilies sleep,
Oh dream, dream, dream where water lilies sleep.
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