#relationshippoetry
I’ve got to figure out what I want
what stays in a person when other things leave
my brain leans toward a known pain
instead of an unknown future
do I go back again
and pay for it
with my soul
just to feel like I belong
her family was oil and water
thrown into a blender
always loud
even in silence
I tried to stand in it
to find something steady
that would give me an anchor
but even that turned
one shift of attention
and I was accused
of things I never was taught to carry
and somehow
I still walked away
made to feel guilty
like I was the damage
on the outside
she looks untouched
like nothing could be wrong
so when I leave
I wear it
like I broke something good
but I know what it did to me
I still feel it in the quiet
healing
isn’t finding someone better
it’s learning
not to return
to something that only looks right
on the outside
like a painting in a ****** frame
that tilts to the right when you look at it
May 22
May 22, 2026 at 1:27 AM UTC
My breath belongs in my lungs, but my chest found a home inside
your heart— then I cut pieces off myself just to hold a piece of you.
Every embrace feels like a crowded room: your tight mannerisms
wrapped around that pretty smile, your colours shifting between
words; shapes changing into the version longing keeps sculpting.
Maybe I’m the well dug too deep— a spiritual mirror of the man I
keep trying to be, the one who could lie beside you in peace, long
enough to remember what softness feels like. Your lips meet mine
so gently that the moment breathes through both our pores; your
presence pulls and pushes at once—push me away, and somehow
your pull grows stronger.
I fall back into that familiar gravity. You speak, and I listen through
the seven levels of understanding; I try to translate us through the
five love languages, into the three words you hesitate to confess,
toward the one truth we both circle around.
And all along, it only takes two— _You and I_, to subtract the whole
count down to its core: I guess love is always the equation reduced
to the simplest form.
Dec 6, 2025
Dec 6, 2025 at 8:56 AM UTC
From my lips, hangs a cigarette
The smoke illuminating your silhouette
You’re my crutch and my vice
And all the lies are overpriced
Yet here I am with you between my fingers
Dragging in your warmth with every breath
But when the smoke no longer lingers
I’ll wish for a fate kinder than death
Because you’ll be my demise
A devil in disguise
You might even forget that you’re choking
When it’s love that you’re smoking
Nov 27, 2025
Nov 27, 2025 at 1:57 PM UTC