"protectiveness" poems
I think I finally understand.
I'm the part of you you'd never felt worth venturing
And you're the part of me that I always desired,
That driven connection we have,
Its like two souls intervene so magically , so effortlessly,
That magnetic field we resonate ,
Is connecting us beyond what we ever expected,
No pressure, No negative intuitions,
Your spirit rejuvanates my spaces of unfurnished emptiness,
Your honest acceptance of me is chivalrous,
Need i say much about how comfortable we ease ourselves to let it go,
That deep spiritual connection we have is something i want to cherish,
I love how you throw off your inner thoughts at me,
Your love is enticing, so sensual,
I want you to indulge in my overflowing appetite of love for you
Let me love you inside out,
Allow me to counterpoise your darkside,
I wish to reside in the space between your heart and loneliness so that the two may never meet again,
You started a war in my heart, and I can't let it end now baby,
I am going to surrender to your carefree love,
Temper me with your protectiveness,
I wont be able to resist your soul,
I want to be in your circle of growth,
Fertilize me with your pureness,
Your ravishing personality amazes me,
Oh sweetheart,
Our craving and desire for one another light's us up whenever we meet eyes now. I never want that to go away,
For all that we had in the past, For all that we have now, lets allow our hearts to lead us into this path of perpetual love. <3
Apr 17, 2016
Apr 17, 2016 at 12:30 PM UTC
like a desert, in the middle of July..
I wonder why..
Your arms stretch out, touching every grain of sand hidden...
keeping warm, even the most cold forbidden...
given a chance to,
be nurtured by the life the desert springs in summer...
an oasis, endless in its love, precious in its wonder..
warmth never felt this warm before,
even as a child under blankets when i feared..
and unlike the blankets, you would never disappear..
heaven is, the feeling of gentle protectiveness,
calmness and power..
ability to devour an hour..
simply spending time describing that one particular flower...
..that bloomed...
Because were not the huggy type, never one to show affection..
momma never kissed us but she gave us her protection..
never said i love you, but we never went hungry..
I got a job at 14 and she never asked for funding...
Quit a career, hopped the border left her favorite shoes behind..
all just so her seeds planted had a chance to see divine..
and even when theres happy times she never says its fine..
still she prays to God, in times of troubles every time...
what does heaven feel like? ......
Heaven is,
that moment once a year when we embrace...
its almost mothers day, i can see it in your face..
Warmth unmatched,
Love endless and pure...
She'll never know, but all the good i do is for her,
and of that im sure, of that im sure..
Momma, I believe in heaven,
heavens my cure.
-afj
May 9, 2015
May 9, 2015 at 3:52 AM UTC
I love you,
I know I'm starting off so very vague,
for this word is not explainable in any other way.
I will caress you form the shadows,
I will keep you from harm's way,
I will hold you,
I think of you throughout all of my days,
I have set on you,
I don't think of them the same way any more,
I want you to know,
you've got me forever,
I won't go!
Your laid back outlook is a breath of fresh air,
your smell is to die for,
those other males wouldn't dare,
because they would lose their lives if I saw.
I promised I wouldn't lie to you so this is how it is,
It isn't unconditional,
For this I feel so selfish,
Love me,
Trust me,
don't leave me,
I'm so sorry it's a lot to ask this.
I will give my life to you,
this will be the last thing I do,
I would rather my heart pounded for you,
than you cut my heart in two.
Jun 13, 2013
Jun 13, 2013 at 3:38 PM UTC
A day in the life of an alley cat, struck dead on the least busy street in the smallest town in Nebraska.
1 am: Druggy, *** you money, ****** don't deserve love, not easy to tell mom. I think of you. Your lungs are begging for my scold. Control is the word you use when no other fits the sentence. You occupy my mind when I am restless, testing the limits of kindness and low voices.
4 am: Your smile, the warmest hot chocolate of your eyes, your knuckles, the baby fat that melted from you, it haunts me. It's like I caught of a glimpse of the wrong angel, the half rotten, beyond gone, but still glowing angel. I killed you with a .45 and a gallon of mouthwash. You dripped into the Earth as a puddle beneath my toes. Gracious Lord, do not forgive me. I know I don't.
8 am: Insomnia without poetry. Tired without body. Maggots without mouths. Catholic priest, without sympathy. God without mercy. Drug abuse, without the realization of undignified addiction. Suicide without the comfort of killing, certainty.
3 pm: Sentiment, true and real, above annoyance and protectiveness. I am now a ghost above a body, finally weightless, finally free of His hands.
6 pm: Joy breaks open like a candy, soft center.
10 pm: Life tears my fingers open, unwraps the flesh from bone like Christmas. I feel my tongue fall out. Dusty antique radios are cleaned, losing authenticity. Their songs scream, sounding a lot like Billy Joel, after the catgut snaps. I feel my mind crawl out of the china cabinet.
11 pm: Nothing. There's really nothing to say at all.
Aug 18, 2016
Aug 18, 2016 at 11:44 PM UTC
If I could explain this in one word
it would be “irrevocable.”
I cannot fathom or explain how it feels
to be born into the world again
enlightenment came from the pages of books
and guided me to touch the light
a feeling I’ve never felt
starts at the soles of my feet
and weaves it’s way up my body like english ivy
this grounded feeling
this sense of self
this remembrance
this self worth
this important
this meaning
this self value
this validation
this purpose
this space that I take up
is mine and mine alone
feeling my existence
feeling it belong
feeling it resinate so deeply within me
feeling this peace
and this protectiveness
over my new-found space
I wish I could give this feeling
to everyone
Jun 9, 2015
Jun 9, 2015 at 12:43 PM UTC
How is it even possible
For someone to be
Remotely as great
As you are
To me
How is it even possible
To have all of that
Talent
Looks
Genuinity
Protectiveness
Love
Humour
Care
Wisdom
Warmth
Touch
All in one person
How do you do it
How is it even possible
For you to be all that
In one person
From the beaming white smile
To the comforting hugs
And comforting touch of the knee
To the way you move to music
From the words of wisdom
To the quick wit
From the protective caring type
To the joking around laughing type
How is it possible
For all of that
To be in one package
To be mine
I really don't know
May 24, 2015
May 24, 2015 at 8:11 AM UTC
I looked for you in the distant, plural reality though you were so close to me.
I was looking for your vibrant eyes in other men, in vain.
Meanwhile, I discovered the charm of your manhood painted with my eyes.
Manhood can be viewed from different perspectives.
Respect, safety, trust, protectiveness,
it is not experienced by all other humans.
Feelings differs from person to person.
I fell in love with you without reason,
without calculation of the probability of a broken heart.
I want to cherish all your human creative elements,
all aspects of your manhood,
biological, anthropological, psychological, theological.
I want to become a notion of divinity,
to feed you with the unknowable.
I want to become indigo, scarlet, gold,
to be coulors of your soul.
I want to speak the language of your dreams
to give you a magic moment before sleep.
I want to love you infinitely like nobody ever loved you
before and after me.
I want to listen to your breathing at night
and in the morning spoil you with a passionate kiss.
I would like to live in your dreams
and wake you up with the aroma of coffee.
I want to be a leprechaun in your hands
and dwell in them as in a house in a tree.
I want to dance with witches
whispering in my name oldest love spells.
I want to become magic in your eyes
to enchant your famished senses .
I want to swap roles with you
to understand your unique world.
Love is not rational, it would not be love.
You can not touch it but you can prove it.
My love is more real than real.
Our love will never become smaller dream when it comes to true.
I belong to you.
Oct 13, 2014
Oct 13, 2014 at 4:27 PM UTC
His eyes were stars in the night sky,
with constellations swirling as nebulas formed,
a mix of the most beautiful, vibrant colors
that collided with each other,
creating a black hole that ****** me in
and captivating me,
transfixing me into stillness.
A statue.
Those eyes paralyzed me
like the ice his eyes were made of
and the stars that created their beautiful glow.
His lips were like scarlet velvet,
soft, full and perfect.
They kissed me with the utmost gentleness
like they were handling a china doll
and as if I was fragile and breakable,
a glass menagerie.
They curled into a smile so sweet and so genuine
that he made me smile no matter what mood I was in.
His hands were unimaginably gentle.
Callused but smooth;
the hands of a guitarist.
They caressed my cheek ever so lightly,
creating an electric spark where his hand once had touched,
an ever so small electromagnetic field.
His hands held mine,
a perfect fit.
As if they were made only and purely for mine.
Him.
Making my heart stop for a second
or turning my heart into a propellor,
breathing in, out,
in,
out,
so fast I feel dizzy.
His humor, one of a clown,
his kindness, one of a kind.
His cuteness, like a puppy,
and his protectiveness,
a part of him that I am very glad for.
He can make time stand still or speed up
until the days and nights run together,
one after another,
one after another,
so quick...too quick.
He is forever on my mind
like a song stuck on repeat,
a broken record repeating my favorite line
of my all time favorite song.
Like a Black Veil Brides song
that someone won't turn off,
yet I don't mind,
because I like it,
just like I like you.
You are he
and she is me.
Nov 5, 2014
Nov 5, 2014 at 8:49 PM UTC
When first you hold that new babe in your arms,
You vow to protect him from all evil or harm.
No love like this have ever you known,
Until you hold this new life, this babe, your own.
The years pass by and with every scrape and tear,
You pull your small one close and hold them near,
Wishing deep in your heart you could take every pain,
Make it yours to withstand, but alas, this wish is in vain.
Our babes must hurt, must suffer and grow,
All the while, we watch, our hearts aching so.
We do what we can to protect them and yet,
In spite of us, somehow, they grow and we fret.
We worry when they are late from a date,
We imagine them lost to the worst kind of fate.
Eyes rolling and with huge sighs at our concerns,
They ignore our admonishments and skip up to their rooms.
Even after you have both lived through those teenage years,
Filled with drama, angst, heartbreak and tears.
When they have become adults on their own,
That protective feeling is there where’re’ they may roam.
And when you hold their young babe to your breast,
The protectiveness renews itself with the little one’s breathe,
The circle of life goes on and the love is revived,
When your babe becomes a young parent. This is good. This is life.
Oct 17, 2010
Oct 17, 2010 at 12:34 PM UTC
Remebering your voice
And the tone
The gentleness
Protectiveness
It started up again.
Why?
I was over you
I let go of you
I moved on without you
Why is this happening.
I wont turn again
I go forward
Not backwards
So make up your mind
Just please
Understand
What is past is past
I will be sure
It will
Never happen again.
Jun 18, 2014
Jun 18, 2014 at 11:07 AM UTC
I'm insatiable
I'm also soo fragile
with a uniqueness all my own,
I am not superficial and yet the contradiction would be paying bills on time and having material things matters to me,
I have a vibrant will plus my spirits
strong too,
I love hard and fierce
I have ambitious desires wants needs and goals,
I'm anxious and have this deep longing,
an unquenchable thirst almost obsession like to express who
I truly am
yet
I'm
frighten ..
I want to be held yet don't always like being touched ,
I want conversation yet like the peace of quite,
I want to go out yet being in public scares me sometimes.
Somethings make me shy even if I've done em plenty of times,
Sometimes
I wanna eat out instead I'll cook and then eat in bed,
I no longer wish to be a pet owner but no one will take care my half blind and semi deaf dog like me or any of the other 3
Who
like me have social anxiety,
I like my independence
but the
contradiction here is
I also
love being clingy
I like kissing
yet rarely do and
when I do so I don't give my all, I want to learn knew moves yet feel I know enough.
I'm expressionistic; it may not be a word but it's the best way to describe me
I want rough
***
but doubt I can go for hours
may not even last minutes
I also want to go slow ant take my time
learn something as I've previously said.
I want gentle strong hands to keep me safe in their protectiveness
Let me be free in my mix of independence & clingy
Accept me
my tormented brokenness
&
all my imperfections
I want to be more than why I am now and like most
I'M scared of changed
the scars
Run Deep
deep into my bones
Borne Into My Soul
meshing and mending into my heart
Even deep groves soaked into my broken pieces
like craving
deep into wood
deeper still to my roots
I want someone else to come do the work and fix me
Heal me
but knowing my journey
would make full grown men
run away
I face this on my own.
I know I have to fix myself and heal
but who ever said
I'd have to do it
Alone?
Nov 29, 2017
Nov 29, 2017 at 1:42 AM UTC
For someone to say,
Nothing,
For more than just occasion,
through fear of judgement,
or lacking the art of articulation.
It tends then to stun when you admit such fragrance,
The whispers of the midnight hour,
The sweetness of your words caress,
Unlike with others, hold such power.
"I love you" finally means something,
The Hollywood movies,
I deemed as nonsense,
Finally hold such beautiful substance.
"You're beautiful",
Makes me feel how one feels,
When looking over oceans,
With sand beneath my heels.
Your mystery,
Most mistake for inability,
But its there,
Such beautiful vulnerability.
A deepness people miss,
A heart that nobody sees,
Affection and love-filled lullabies,
That bring me to my knees.
Generosity that is famous,
The character of a noble king,
But nobody but me knows the tune,
The tune that your heart would sing.
As you look at me like I am everything,
Like I am sun and wind and rain,
The look in your eyes when someone hurts you,
And you pretend you're not in pain.
The rage you feel when someone looks at me
In that ***** kind of way,
The protectiveness of what is yours,
Like a lion with its prey.
A fierce wolf,
That hunts in the darkness of the night,
Yet I know the young boy inside,
Who feels agony and fright.
I get to see the inner demon too,
He surfaces on occasion,
To tease me with his silly jokes,
And make me weak with his flirtation.
The man who prays for me,
In every single prayer,
The one who'd never let another harm me,
Not a single hair.
See If I told them,
What you sometimes say,
They would never believe me
"No, Men like him could never feel that way"
But I know you,
Every memory etched across your skin,
Every little weakness,
Every hidden sin.
You are beautiful to look at,
This I must I admit.
And to love you,
Like I do,
My heart can sometimes hardly contain it.
You are honourable,
And kind,
You're all the things I want to be,
And that's why my heart does a dance when you say,
"You're the other half of me"
Feb 2, 2015
Feb 2, 2015 at 9:41 PM UTC
You ask me questions,
as if your curiosity itself entitled you to the answers.
Secrets,
which in the simple act of their existence engender in us a fierce protectiveness;
We want to shelter them.
answers,
which before you no one even knew to ask for.
“Do I think you’ll judge me for them?”
you ask.
And of course
of course I do.
But,
how could that be it?
Your curiosity doesn’t earn you the right of entry.
Jan 29, 2019
Jan 29, 2019 at 8:32 PM UTC
-Joelena Saldana
11/30/14
My dreams are getting bigger and my eyes are refusing to open.
I want to do so much more.
I want to be seen.
I want people to see me for who I truly am.
I want them to see what I'm capable of.
How strong I am,
I can only imagine how underestimated they would be.
I want them to see how big my bravery, heart, love, care, and protectiveness is.
If only they knew, they'd stop using me.
If only they knew, they'd stop trying to control my life.
If only they knew, they'd stop trying to take advantage.
If only they knew, they'd stop using me to try to make themselves look better.
If only they knew, I would no longer stay in the corner, the dark, be the sidekick.
But the thing is, the only reason why they don't know is, obviously, because of me.
I put others before me.
It may be my light, but I'm willing to give it up for another.
I know I shouldn't.
It's a waste of a good life.
But my soul.. It's as if it ONLY carries love.
It's nice, but it's not good.
My soul holds more value.
I just need to let it explore, way more than I let it..
Jun 23, 2015
Jun 23, 2015 at 11:26 AM UTC
The mystery in his eyes
The story they tell
Wrinkled around the edges
When his laugh takes me away
Every threat he takes away
You can see the protectiveness in his eyes
The ones that never lie
He’ll always be by my side
His eyes are like a song
The one that goes on and on
My heart beat is the tempo to his song
I know he is where I belong
Oct 24, 2013
Oct 24, 2013 at 6:44 PM UTC
Taylor,
I wish that you could see yourself the way I see you. When you look at yourself, you see your mistakes, your past, your body, etc. You see a guy who strives so hard to be the hero but the cape never quite seemed to fit. And you felt like you could never win, never make everyone happy while at a disregard for your own well-being. You let the things that you’ve been told your whole left take root in your brain and grow into something parasitic. Something crippling and I swear to god when you reflect on yourself you must be seeing the image in a shattered mirror. You look at your body like it’s the remnants of a house. All scrap metal and broken wood. But you are more than stray debris from the hurricane that has been life misfortune placed on you. You are something amazing and unusual, unlike anyone else on this earth. You miss the small things that make you, you. The small freckles on your ears and arms, tiny kisses from the sun, like the universes promise that you are loved. The sun glinting in those beautiful blue eyes, (or green as you’ve told me a million times). The small crinkles around them as you smile, warming my heart and the whole room. Perfect porcelain teeth and a smile as striking and wide as the sea itself, and holds about as much as beauty and life as the Pacific, I swear. I see you in everything around me. I see you in the warm light that drifts in through my blinds in the morning, when I’m wishing you were next to me. In the steam of a hot drink and the first cigarette of the day. Street lights reflecting on cars, small animals, early morning breakfasts- sipping coffee in that little booth, and all those small things that make life worth getting up in the morning. You make my life worth getting up in the morning. No matter how depressed or tired or greasy or ***** I will always find my way back home to your bed. Back to you.
The long story short of this letter is that you are much more than you seem. You are more than the mistakes of your past or the parts of your body you hate. When I see you I see a kind man. I see intelligence and caring and protectiveness. I’m not going to sit here and patronize you and act like you are without flaws, but who isn’t? No one is without flaw and I still love every one of yours. Every part of you. I fell in love with you for your soul and the heart pumping under your ribcage.
You’re only 19 my love. Things won’t be this hard on you forever. All these beating waves are shaping and smoothing the way for something great, I promise.
I love you Taylor James.
Oct 20, 2016
Oct 20, 2016 at 1:58 AM UTC
Knowing that I will not know,
feeling what I should not feel,
hoping for a dream long gone,
grasping on to a phantom limb,
moving because it is obligatory,
happy out of force and protectiveness,
days drag because they choose,
tomorrow is another thing to loose.
Jun 12, 2013
Jun 12, 2013 at 1:43 AM UTC
Me in you.
I see.
Me in you.
In things you do.
I'm constantly reminded,
if that isn't you.
You use to do the same thing too.
Same mannerism.
Same outspokeness.
Same on almost everything.
Even when it comes to denying blame.
Me in you.
I see.
From the way you dress.
From your protectiveness.
I even see your parentalness.
Yes, me in you I see.
I guess that will always be.
Especially, when others speak.
Me in you.
They see.
Dec 10, 2012
Dec 10, 2012 at 8:50 AM UTC
The lungs and the heart are the most important organs
They're the only ones that need extra protection that isn't skin deep
They're the only ones with a cage around them
They need the protectiveness
Want to know why?
They're the only things that requires another person
Because you need someone else to breath for
And you need another person to have your heart beat for
So why not be safe?
Oh right
They're still in a cage
Apr 8, 2015
Apr 8, 2015 at 11:45 PM UTC
I see bits of you in everything.
My sister's jokes.
My mother's scolding.
My grandpa's stories.
My father's protectiveness.
My brother's hugs.
My grandma's smiles.
You seem to be everywhere.
And yet you're still missing.
Feb 24, 2017
Feb 24, 2017 at 8:50 PM UTC
Love isn’t always romantic
Sometimes love is playing the song you know
will make the person in the passenger seat
smile just a little bit bigger
Sometimes love is staying up all night
waiting for each new text to come
that says they made it another couple minutes
Sometimes love is letting them have the last piece
of grandma’s special recipe
Sometimes love is reading the book
someone mentioned in passing is their favorite
so that you can have a reason to talk to them again
Sometimes love is telling them your secret
maybe the one you told a few
or the one you only told your heart
Sometimes love is letting the brother you swear is annoying
sleep in your room when he doesn’t want to be alone in the dark
Sometimes love is a showering with the lights off
so you can love yourself without fear
Sometimes love is sharing the jokes you hear
and think they would like
Sometimes love is memorizing your best friend’s schedule
so you know when they are free before you ask
because you know they hate to have to say no
Sometimes love is pushing them away
because you know they deserve better
Sometimes love is smiling when they steal a fry
and rather than calling them out
you steal some of theirs
Sometimes love is seeing a pair of heart shaped sunglasses
and immediately thinking it is totally their style
Sometimes love is waving
at the people in the car next to you on the freeway
at the little kid who asked you for a sucker at work
at your friends in the hall you don’t have class with this semester
Sometimes love is offering to order for them
when their anxiety becomes too much
Sometimes love is putting yourself first
you can’t help others if you are in a million scattered pieces
Sometimes love is sitting in the make shift audience in your aunt’s basement
watching your family put on a concert of toy drums
and jumping up when they pull you on the stage of cardboard boxes
Sometimes love is inside jokes from years ago
you aren’t even sure how to explain anymore
but get you on the floor each and every time
Sometimes love is not holding back
introducing yourself
giving people the chance to be someone to love
Sometimes love is holding their hand
as they get their third piercing
even though they are terrified of needles
Sometimes love is a teddy bear
given from family to the newborn
Sometimes love is walking them down the isle
with a kiss on their forehead
Sometimes love is noticing the words and topics that trigger them
and when they are used
watch for the signs
Sometimes love is watching the children
while the parents take a break
Sometimes love is getting a kitkat from the gas station
when you go by yourself
because they are your brother’s favorite
Love isn’t always romantic
Love isn’t always mind-numbing passion
Sometimes love is the small things
the things you learn
the way you adapt to each person
the protectiveness you give
Love isn’t always romantic
But it's how I love
May 9, 2021
May 9, 2021 at 2:20 AM UTC
"Why can't I just be more confident?"
Let me get straight to the point.
I'm not confident.
I might not always think I'm worthwhile,
But I'm getting there.
I know I'm not terrible looking,
But that is never enough.
I have to be thinner,
My eyes can't be brown,
I need to have clearer skin,
My waist needs to be smaller,
My stomach needs to be flatter.
My hair needs to be softer and have more volume.
Maybe even curl a little.
All these thoughts that I would fight tooth and nail against my friends if they dared to think this negatively about themselves.
I'm a hypocrite, what can I say?
Though I have been conditioned
From the day I could voice my own opinions, from the day I didn't want my mother dressing me up,
To believe I have no value other than my appearance.
To believe that I have no worth as anything but a pretty little doll, and having even that revoked.
My parents would call me "pretty" and "precious",
But when I stood up for myself when they would lash out at me
I was "ugly" and "rude".
They're still like that.
Voicing my opinions around them
Never goes well.
Manipulative friendships and two ex's later,
I'm this way.
I am unsure of everything. Every compliment could be revoked at any second.
Same with any type of love.
The only reason I know I'm better than those who have hurt you,
Is because the only thing I'm arrogant about
Is the empathy and vicious protectiveness in my heart.
But I'll never be
Super confident,
Like the women who reel men in like fish,
Devour their hearts,
And throw them back into the water.
But I know I am strong.
Stronger than you know.
I've been told it's incredible
That I can still be so soft and sincere
And caring
After going through
My own little hell.
And maybe that is my strength.
I still have a heart,
After refusing to sell my soul to Death.
I am confident in at least that much.
Mar 3, 2017
Mar 3, 2017 at 5:47 PM UTC
The tenderness on your body isn't forever.
But for 16, a curled frown of a fiddled head
fern and forests
just wasted by the sun, your traveled generous thighs
in which we've become to tie boundlessly by.
The innocence and wisdom of the place my tongue has found
there by what all came from;
i'd advise as in the present, I lived in satiation
by the way she lit up candles,
and held my body like warmth
and my heart like glass in this home.
no wonder why our ribs are cages for the heart,
except mines managed to escape and loved so much with the heart
so it consumed me, and she consumed my all I can offer.
"you are way too loving for this world"
soon, your touch on me, firmness, protectiveness, and love
held onto me, searching me out of your tongue, and slender fingers
reaching for mines,
so whatever happens, I pray it will be with you.
Feb 9, 2020
Feb 9, 2020 at 1:33 AM UTC
"Who should defend the moon if not the poets?"
Set the fires, let them burn.
The poets are watching,
Hold their gaze, stare them down.
Let them watch you, I vouch on their behalf, they will fall in love.
See how they defend all that their eyes linger upon.
You get to leave, but being forgotten is not your choice.
I wonder if like witches, the poets too were shunned.
Unanimously void of acceptance,
they hear battle cries where conversations are held.
The moon, her shadows. The earth her hollows
The poets go on to fight for all that they love,
I wonder how they reached this particular sparse,
A stretch of once lush but now fading grass.
A sad willow fueled by a writer's insatiable hunger.
Its roots reach deep, and its memories never fade.
The tree sags and groans, and empty nooses swing from where once dead weight hung.
I wonder if invisibility convinced the poets, that to love is to see and
To see is to show. So showmanship became a pre-requisite of their love.
But laced with it is fierce protectiveness of where they belong.
Is that why they're quick to defend another's flaws?
Baring their pens and flexing their claws.
Finding a million reasons to adorn the ones long gone?
They keep draping their dead muses with literary scarves.
In jewels, they bend over backwards to give but never grasp.
Always an Angel, Never a god.
Always the Artist never the art.
I defend the poets, for I was cursed with a poet's heart.
We wear our scars like medals from wars and
We will love till we crumble,
I wish the poets a soft love.
The love that they write and read about.
I wish the poets, a soft love,
Aug 15, 2024
Aug 15, 2024 at 2:11 PM UTC