Diego Morales Jun 2017
Never mind the time of spring,
From which love comes a common thing,
Love comes rare as life may
Midwinter or a gloomy day

To life, love, happiness can only bring!
To live and love, what a beautiful thing!
Midst the solitude in which we born and die
—Love greets our lonely life, passing by
when I was a young girl I was raised to believe that a man in the clouds always watched over me
watched over me with all knowing sight as long as I prayed to him every night
as long as I blindly worshiped this being I would be happy and healthy and free
but what is freedom when you are alone in a faith that prohibits the dark unknown?

"I am a jealous God," he said, for I was taught to be meek
having faith in what I see is blasphemy
for a fruitful life on earth, my soul I would sell, if that did not sentence me to eternity in hell
spitting, burning demons aflame
forever tortured in this everlasting game
beaten and bruised and damned below to a place that no one would choose to go
but He loves me

"you must look well, clean up, wear your dress!"
in order to avoid loneliness
you must follow these ten rules
he ignores the world's strife despite his tools
but He loves me

why do we not thank our doctors and mothers?
we thank God instead of the works of others
what has he done? he sits there and stares
he sits and laughs at what is not fair
but He loves me

he needs time
he needs money
he needs blind faith
he needs me to sacrifice my soul
he needs me to sacrifice who I am

...but He loves me
if this poem is offensive to you, don't worry, it offends me, too.
For years I've known
a sort of love -
of a woman
one can't stop thinking of,
the kind that's bound
with loneliness
when she's not around,
the kind that has a spring
and a winter too,
that's just passing through,
however much we try
to keep it - or deny
that it one day
will die.

But there's another love
that has nothing to do
with woman or man
being with me or you,
nothing to do with light and shade,
sorrow and joy's ongoing play,
with what will go or stay,
with lovemaking alongside the feud.
It's not the kind of love
upon which loneliness can intrude.
It's the sort that needs no fuel,
nothing from the outside.
While the mind has
countless substitutes it calls "love"
which will age or fall apart,
another love hides away
as the very nature of the heart!
Laura Duran Jun 29
He loves me, he loves me not
We're meant to be, or so I thought
My heart is broken, the pain is real
I long for peace, from all I feel

I fake a smile, so no one knows
I mimic strength, lest weakness shows
I refuse surrender, I stand and fight
I must succeed, and so I write

The ink it flows, pours from my pen
It heals my heart, and I can breathe again

Minutes into hours, hours into days
The love I held so tightly, starts to fade away
The pain begins to lessen, the tears no longer fall
Seemed misery was forever but it's not that way at all

Those nights you haunt my dreams
Are few and far between
When memories overtake me, I know I'll be alright
I know now what to do....and so I write

The ink it flows, pours from my pen
It heals my heart and I can breathe again
Yes, I can breathe again.
zebra Jul 19
like cellophane wraps hard candy
like ink loves to dry
like hot sauce drenches noodles
like sunrise casts shadows
like band-aids sooth cut flesh
like irons crease linens
like origami folds paper
like water floats boats
like a tempest loves a teapot
like syrup and bananas drench waffles
like spoons love soup
like cats love fish
like french fries love ketchup
like wild girls dance
like a crow loves road kill
like eyes love beauty
like a circle loves a square
like buttered buns fit a bikini
like a kissed mouth hungers for wet lips
like moths love a flame
like dogs love assholes
and like panties hug butts

like howling orgasms pulse hearts
like vampires love blood and castles
like dark grapes ferment in bubbling cauldrons
like white loves rice
like madness loves a straight jacket
like a boner loves a cunt
and music gets you dancing

like suns fall through cobalt night all smashing diamonds
  
that's
how i love you
love
Tay Mar 2015
The failing use of my right arm,
Isn't actually the failing use of my right arm.
It's just a way of keeping time.
And time is ticking.

He says he loves me.
He swears on his life that he loves me.

But love, I've come to understand,
Isn't warm like I'm told.
Love is a trap.
A greedy monster preying on my hope
And feasting on my unanswered prayers.
It's take and don't think to give back.
It's pushing until I have nothing left.
Nothing left of even my own.
Love is never looking in the mirror again,
Because you're disgusted with what he has made you into.

Long sleeves and high collars,
No plans on a Friday night,
Warning looks and cold eyes,
Bruised ribs and shattered breaths
Hands above my head and legs pinned under him.
But, still, he swears he loves me.

The failing use of my heart,
Isn't actually the failing use of my heart.
It's just a way of keeping time.
*And my time is up.
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