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Voahirana Feb 2
what does love look like the therapist asks
one week after the breakup
and i’m not sure how to answer her question
except for the fact that i thought love
looked so much like you

that’s when it hit me
and i realized how naive i had been
to place an idea so beautiful on the image of a person
as if anybody on this entire earth
could encompass all love represented
as if this emotion seven billion people tremble for
would look like a five foot eleven
medium-sized brown-skinned guy
who likes eating frozen pizza for breakfast

what does love look like the therapist asks again
this time interrupting my thoughts midsentence
and at this point i’m about to get up
and walk right out the door
except i paid too much money for this hour
so instead i take a piercing look at her
the way you look at someone
when you’re about to hand it to them
lips pursed tightly preparing to launch into conversation
eyes digging deeply into theirs
searching for all the weak spots
they have hidden somewhere
hair being tucked behind the ears
as if you have to physically prepare for a conversation
on the philosophies or rather disappointments
of what love looks like

well i tell her
i don’t think love is him anymore
if love was him
he would be here wouldn’t he
if he was the one for me
wouldn’t he be the one sitting across from me
if love was him it would have been simple
i don’t think love is him anymore i repeat
i think love never was
i think i just wanted something
was ready to give myself to something
i believed was bigger than myself
and when i saw someone
who probably fit the part
i made it very much my intention
to make him my counterpart

and i lost myself to him
he took and he took
wrapped me in the word special
until i was so convinced he had eyes only to see me
hands only to feel me
a body only to be with me
oh how he emptied me

how does that make you feel
interrupts the therapist
well i said
it kind of makes me feel like ****

maybe we’re looking at it wrong
we think it’s something to search for out there
something meant to crash into us
on our way out of an elevator
or slip into our chair at a cafe somewhere
appear at the end of an aisle at the bookstore
looking the right amount of **** and intellectual
but i think love starts here
everything else is just desire and projection
of all our wants needs and fantasies
but those externalities could never work out
if we didn’t turn inward and learn
how to love ourselves in order to love other people

love does not look like a person
love is our actions
love is giving all we can
even if it’s just the bigger slice of cake
love is understanding
we have the power to hurt one another
but we are going to do everything in our power
to make sure we don’t
love is figuring out all the kind sweetness we deserve
and when someone shows up
saying they will provide it as you do
but their actions seem to break you
rather than build you
love is knowing who to choose
           -Rupi Kaur
harley r noire May 2019
is this dreary dormancy, or is this death?
for the candle's counting and fire's fading,
the bulb's broken and the light's leaving—
in the silence of makeshift soul sepulchre
i pictured those two angels weeping.
am i dormant, or am i dead? where's the old me? why am i growing backwards? why am i lost? i am now failing child, aren't i?
Pure of Stars Feb 2019
i’m tired of losing myself
when everyone else is constantly changing
in a never-ending cycle of fear
i am lost in the past and searching for the future
wondering when i will change for the better
or when i will be okay with being myself
Arinka Camilla Nov 2017
i used to love the scent of rain
not until it gives me pain
but who knows
maybe this is where my poetry grows

lately, i tend to walk alone
gives me the feeling like i'm never known
thoughts been treating me like a slave
and it's so hard to find a place that makes me feel safe

sometimes i can't feel my feet
most of the time, my heart beat
it's getting really hard to breath
maybe i'm getting closer to the death

as i'm walking away
kinda hoping that they'll beg me to stay
hey, what is this part?
is it where everybody's treating me like a dart?

throw me about a mile
and only be remembered as a small while?

Sunday, 15 January, 2017.
Parker Poole Sep 2017
You know the way your phone slips from your hand and your heart drops?
The feeling of your heart skipping a beat as it shatters against the floor?
When I lose control, I experience a similar feeling
I lose control of my surroundings, sending my head reeling.
I panic and lash out in fear of the unknown
It’s like sand slipping from your fingertips at the beach
I lose myself in a storm of emotions and as I reach
For the little bits of myself, I can see in the chaos
They remain walking backward, afraid of who I’m becoming
My heart is drumming against my ribcage, ready to burst
And I’m terrified of the pale face I can see in the mirror
My reflection speaks for itself, wild eyes that know no bounds
Ears ringing, full of all the sounds
Of each voice that torments me around the clock
I’m ready for it all to stop but instead
I see myself hurting my loved ones
Becoming this animal that I cannot tame
And I remain the only one who can feel how I feel
Because unlike shattering a phone…
I cannot replace myself and this is all I know
Marilyn Sistinas Dec 2016
Every breath I managed to take,
felt worst than the pain losing you made.
****** concrete is the only portrait I can paint,
but I can't count the times I've ended up with your face on the page.
I'm sorry I can't remember things for ****,
then again, you didn't remember I loved you,
so, am I the one to blame for this?
maybe if I think too much, I won't think at all,
but honestly, I've thought so much I've made a stall,
yet broken through, and ****** my hand up on the drywall.
Haven't eaten in a mere six days,
but I've gotten use to knodding off and these delusions set to daze.
I ******* hate dropping my cigarettes,
and I love the rain, but I hate getting wet.
Don't ask me questions cause I don't ******* know.
Dig into me, settle under the surface.
Work your way in depth to me.
It's falling apart and I'm breaking down,
like ashes colliding into the ground.
Never thought complete silence could create such shuddering sound.
My mind's running circles but my stomach can't keep up with the round n round.
Rading cabinets and getting caught up in the sound of the bottle,
savoring what I reluctantly found.
A few for the memories, a few to pass the time and a few to wash em down.
My skin is crawling, stinging, itching to open up,
just for you to lore inside.
Crawl beneath, sink and hide.
Dig in deep, and dwell within.
Scratching, scratching,
yea, digging through skin.
I am not afraid of falling.
I am scared of not being able to get back up.
I am not afraid of leaving.
I fear, though, that I will never return.
I am not afraid of changing.
I am just scared of losing myself in the proccess.
I am not afraid for today.
I do worry about what tomorrow will bring.
I am not afraid of a little push
I am afraid of being pushed past the breaking point
And what I will become when I am.
Karmen Mar 2016
How could I only help you
Blind to what it was doing to me
I knew you would soon be better
Blind to what I was slowly becoming
Assisting you whenever I was called
Ignoring that my calls were always denied
How could I be so oblivious to what was unfolding
You were becoming better with each passing day.
But i, I was deeper into the hole I helped you out of
You felt the sunlight and left without hesitation
Leaving me in this hole of darkness that wasn't my own
Blind to what it was doing to me
I stayed happy that you were better
Blind to what I had become
This dark hole soon became my home
As I could hear the happiness of your better soul
It never dawned on me it was for the misery of my soul in exchange that you could truly live happy.
Helped someone , lost myself and became what I said I wouldnt.

— The End —