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I don't know how to write poetry like I don't know how to kiss you.

Our lips touch, my heart races, but my hands don't know how closely I am able to hold on to you.

If I could write poems I'd tell you how holding you close feels like finding a life jacket when you're lost at sea.

I'd tell you how your smile is the safest place I have ever known. That I've decorated the walls of my heart with your memories so I have somewhere to call home.

But I can't.

When you're around my body becomes a garden.

Butterflies dance around wildly in my stomach, through a meadow of delusion.

Vines grow and twist around my heart, in the same way that they make old ruins beautiful.

My tongue is paradise.

A thousand blooms unfurling in your sunlight, a bed of velvet soft petals with the sweetest nectar you're only too happy to devour.

You gorge away on the sweetest fruits, th nectar, you take your cuttings for ornaments. And when youre done you leave.

Darkness follows in your wake, my eyes become waterfalls, washing any colour that remained until there is only grey.

I can't kiss you. Because I know that afterwards there is a storm without parallel. I know resting my hand on your skin is no longer a silent I love you. More like a moth flying to close to the flame.

And I can't write a poem, because when you leave me, there is nothing left...
"I'm really good at reading people"
Oh yeah? Can you tell when people fake smile?
"Yeah its all about the eyes"
      -i guess you never looked at mine
You are toxic
You are unstable
You drag me down
But for years that's the only way I saw my life turning out
elish Sep 11
if you read this you might find this funny,
texts about a self-proclaimed problematic girl
but isn’t she really one?

did u ever show her that you love her?
do you think she even felt it?
are you sure that you love her?
if yes, then why are you doing this to her?
do you think she deserve this?
words can ****.
and I think you are a murderer.
words cut deeper than a knife
I sometimes wonder if you'd invite me to your wedding.
And if not why?
Would it be to spare my ghostly heart the pain?
Or to spare your rotted one the guilt?

If you did, I wonder if your blessed bride would see my fake smile  covering up the snarls of my jealous rage.
Or if to her, I would simply be as insignificant as you make me feel...
Fears created by years and years of trauma and abuse and manipulation. Triggered by the smallest thing.
I’m sorry.
i remember all the dates, of when i starting liking you, when i loved you, when i was in love with you, the day you kissed me, the day you grabbed my hand, the day you surprised me

i guess i should start to remember the days i fell out of love, the days i wished youd kiss me and you didnt, the days all i needed was your hand and mine and you refused, the weeks you couldnt spare a moment of your time for me

i am not sure the love will fade, but i know it no longer envelopes me, you no longer make me feel safe, wanted, and cared for

how could i continue to be in love with you when i am not even sure you care about me, or want to talk to me, you make no effort for me

i guess there is no problem staying after falling out of love, as you were never in love anyway
There they were…
Lying on the bed, with her head resting below his shoulder. Listening to his heartbeat and praying it never stops. One leg draped over him, almost as if she was afraid he’d free from her embrace and leave. As though her leg were a seatbelt holding him in place, keeping him from leaving, and bracing him for the ride of their lives. Her arm resting on his body with her hand on his chest.
There they were…
The safest place in the world. Their love, shielding them from the chaos of the outside world.
This was the most comfortable place for her to lay.
This was her favorite place to be.
And he took it all away.
This is not about me and my boyfriend, just felt like writing something that might relate to others and express their suppressed emotions. My boyfriend and I are doing well. However, I know the pain I would feel if that was taken from me, so I wrote from fear not from fact.
Poetic Eagle Sep 2
they are waiting for me to break
so they can take advantage of my pieces
random thought
A mood can change in the blink of an eye.
Your texts stir up like dissolving lies.
My hands shake to the beat of my thundering heart.
My blood runs cold enough to freeze the pendulum swinging in my head.
My stomach wants to be sick, its letting me know my world is upside down.
The cold sweat consumes me.
Locks me in my head with my whirling thoughts.

When i claw myself out of this madness, i ask who am i?
Who am i to be jealous over an unrequited love?
They could make you happy, surely, i just want you to be happy?

I do want you to be happy.

This love. This hurt. This friendship. This obsession.

This nothingness is leaving no space left for sanity.
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