Nessa Kay 13m

it was no longer even a question
he was there
he was what I wanted
and I was going to do
everything in my power
to make him believe
that I was his

A fork and empty plate,
relics of last night's dinner.
Paint, brushes and thinner,
art never finished at this rate.

A jumbled deck of cards,
a game we had, it was amusing.
A single, lonely sheet of music,
how I wish I was a bard.

The only comb I own,
more a decoration than for combing hair.
Two coins, a single pair,
lucre, life's stepping stone.

A ring, not on my finger,
memories in scratches etched
Things to get off of my chest,
a single photograph of her.
That is all the junk on my desk.

Do not date boys who write poetry
Their careless skill with words will
Have you captured as but a passage
And you are so much more than that

Date a man who knows nothing of metaphors
Love someone who knows science
See if he can learn your algorithms
From energetic beginning
To entropic end
Who can experiment with bringing
Luminescence to your fingertips
And suns aflame within your stomach
Date a man who is dyslexic with emotion
Who knows nothing of metre and verse
Doesn’t know how to write poems
But writes you one anyway because you are his universe

Do not love boys who fall asleep with Bukowski beside their beds
They will try to pretend that their eruptions
Are frustrated justification for treating you like they learned from him
Volcanoes, they are not, they just simmer and seethe
Keeping you Vesuvius ossified
In petrified acceptance that all men are assholes.
Going through implied inactions
Inspired by a bastard
You deserve better than disasters and they are dangerous
And only beautiful from afar

They will never learn to write you right anyway

Similarly do not love mean who love late night cafes
Black filtered coffees and white unfiltered cigarettes
Their bitter jealous love will leave you in absolutes
It will stain you like so much scratched and battered woodwork
And here you could be a forest
Though they may fuck you
So sincerely
They are treacherous rain,
Slick on pavements
And storms in teacups
Though they may make you wet
So you call him convection clouds
They are just bad weather
Date someone who is up before the dawn
Because they just don't know what the day holds
But instead hold their cup of tea so sweet and milky
You jokingly call it candy,
And raise a cheers to the new morning
And whose hard heavy worn hands hold hard to your form
Who never touched nicotine because they lost a relative that way
Who never touched verse because life is enough of an education
They will know more about the world than those poetry boys anyway
Don't date boys who tell you you are fire
They are only looking to get burnt
And will add fuel to embers to ensure you don't get put out
Every sweet word is just lies
Don't date boys who say your eyes are the seas
To hell with cliches (and your eyes are brown anyway)
If they want to drown let them find someone else
With the same taste for saltwater

Don't date men who say "they can't describe you"
As they will try and each and every frustrated sentence
Will rattle you
They will call you legends
And not understand when you don't live up to the poorly
Constructed reality of the myth they envisaged

Every published word smells of every other girl
And remember every letter of every word they put out there
Is one millions scraps of drafts as prayer
So take their million million
Million, million metaphors for how much they love you
And return it to them unmarked or
"Could have done better - don't see me" .

You are not here to teach them
And you are a lesson they will not learn

This is a nod to Paula Varjack's "why you should never date an artist" one of my favourite poems by one of my favourite poets, if she's ever in town go and check her out.
Kerdel 15h

I can't distinguish sham love from one that's actual.
The heart isn't the one doing the talking, So how am I suppose to be sure it's factual?
Whom do I select? Whom do I believe? Whom do I accept?
These are the questions I can't get out of my head.
I remember when I love you actually meant something,
But now it's used as a cover up to disguise nothing.
Why do you enjoy bluffing?
Why slur words without meaning?
Why should I hand you the things I was given?
My love and time isn't something that can be re-established.
"I love you," you say.
I am sure you're just uttering words without feelings.
I am not that easily duped,
Maybe I am.

Leonila 15h

The Moon

The moon and stars
are silent witnesses of my love
I can't tell you that I love you enough
Would you laugh at me if I told you?
I love you to the moon and back
Would you remain silent?
Would a response you give back?
The moon...
light post in the midnight sky
she smiles as I dodge the constellations in your eyes
I can't help myself baby boy, I'm just very shy!
so kiss me and paralyze the hands of time
so I might remember this night for the rest of my life

I want you to understand how I feel
I want you to understand why I am the way I am
I want you to realize what you've done to me,
that when I see your face and hear your name, I lose myself completely...

Leonila 15h

The Strings of Gold

the strings of gold
be the strings that bind
of a love that's true
of our heart's so bold

the strings of gold
that heal the scars
woven  with needles
washed with love's balm

the strings of gold
be the strings that bind
speak life to the heart
and such is his love

pnkrck 1d

google search:
moon landing can't compare to when he looks at me

google search:
how to appear normal when there's a band
of monarch butterflies in your stomach

google search:
is Heaven a place or a person?

google search:
he tastes like honey and sweetness
is it possible to taste like that as well?

google search:
power outages when holding his hand

google search:
how to show him how much I adore him

google search:
universe collapsing in chest
when he says "i love you"

google search:
how to properly give my boy the world


Despite the fact that you broke her heart
She somehow managed to mend it
Just so she could have it beat again

For you.

For J
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