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such a wild thing to think.
how these thoughts,
romanticize your voice.
it’s all that i can hear,
all that i want to hear—
as if everything ever derived
from these id-driven impulses,
is to ask for only your voice.
only your voice.
vanessa marie Feb 2022
im addicted to you
to your laugh and your smiles
your "i havent seen you around in a while" 's
and i've made most of it up in my mind anyway
i romanticize the little things
like your bedroom and the way your t shirt clings
i can see our future so clearly its scary
its not happily ever after by any means
but its enough for now
its enough for us in our teens
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
as you held me,
your hands moved across me,
your fingertips tracing
every curve of my body.

your hands wandered
until they found my scars.
every muscle in my body tensed up,
waiting for you to comment on them.

they weren’t new.
by this time, I had dealt
with all types of reactions.

there were the people
who were disgusted
and didn’t try to hide it,

the people who were made so
uncomfortable that
they didn’t know what to say,

the people who
insisted they understood
when it was obvious that they didn’t.

you were hard to read.
I wasn’t sure what to expect from you.
you pulled me closer to you
and held me tighter,
and I felt myself relax.

you didn’t tell me you were fine with them, you didn’t tell me you were sorry,
and you didn’t tell me they were beautiful.

you were honest,
and I loved that.

you weren’t fine with them,
but neither was I,
and that didn’t stop you
from caring about me.
you weren’t sorry,
you didn’t pity me,
and you didn’t change
the way you acted around me
like most people do.

but most importantly,
you did not call them beautiful.
they aren’t.

there is nothing beautiful
about self-hatred,
and these scars
are nothing more
than its byproducts.

self-harm is not pretty.
my past is not pretty.
my scars are not pretty.
I told you all of this.

you didn’t disagree with me,
you didn’t try to argue.
you simply held me.
you didn’t look at my scars,
you looked at me.
you didn’t say much.
you didn’t have to.

when you did finally speak,
you told me,

“you’re right.
your past isn’t pretty.
but that doesn’t mean
your future can’t be.”
Sneha Thakur May 2020
I think there is a special beauty in being able to romanticize love.
Its all up in here, in my mind.
There is a spectrum of thoughts in my imagination.
Sometimes my love can be one sided and it's safe to say that i like that more.
The part where you get to wonder and the excitement that follows.
I wonder a lot of things about you.
About how do you look like when you laugh.
Do you have an ugly laugh or are you a shy laugher.
Sometimes i make up moments in my mind,
More than often in those moments, time freezes and we make our own little infinity.
Sometimes i want to say things to you, and i wonder what you will say back.
I wonder if you will say what i wanna hear.
I like the wondering part.
I like to think.
I wonder how it would feel to hold your hands.
colette alexia Jan 2020
Twenty years single
I had a problem loving too many people
I know it can be a waste of time
But I can't help but to romanticize
I'm drawn to the rebels because they wear it on their sleeves
A kind of fearless that I wish that I could be
But too many people are depending on me
Sometimes I wish that I wasn't cautious
It's not the first time that I've thought this
If I'm being honest
Sabila Siddiqui Jul 2019
Once she chased happiness
and now she chases broken pieces.
She fell in love with pain,
it drove her insane.
For who would want to hurt themselves?

Who would choose to
love to be heartbroken,
run back to the ones who would hurt,
reminisces painful memories to be hurt,
indulge in negativity, to drown in its depths
be comforted by demons than people.

But no one saw,
for there were no scars,
for it was mental self harm.

Pain it craved,
fear, rejection and sadness it ate.

She cried, because it was self harm
she screamed, and shouted
asking herself did she not love herself
to be hurt by her own self?
sarah Feb 2019
looking back now at the screenshots of my conversations
i realize that the sunshine might have just been rain
maybe that's how i cope; replacing pain with contentment
to wish to go back to a time i once wished to escape
Em Jan 2019
I bask in the glory
Radiated from the sun
The heat works to encompass me
In its loving embrace

Shining over the earth
Dropping and raising petals
Never stopping
Never ceasing to exist

There were gods named after her, after all.
i dont know what im doing?????? im tired but i haven't posted here in a while
the sun is good, the sun is gREAAAAAAAT,,,,
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