"reserving" poems
Hang in there.
I know times are tough but that's okay, that's part of life.
I just want to let you know that I'm proud of you.
Proud of you for taking all the ******** and bearing with it.
Absorbing all the crap that life has given you and using it to become better.
You held on for so long that now, it's time to let go.
Let go. Let go of what hurts you, everything that once made you feel alive but came crashing down like the waves on high tide.
One thing to remember, never regret. Never regret loving someone just because they caused you pain. Remember that once, that person gave you a reason to smile or make you feel like you were the happiest person on Earth. That person made you feel love even if now, it barely means anything.
I remember you being so restless, so helpless because you didn't know what to do. That was 6 months ago when you thought everything was meant to be, when you thought that that person was the one for you.
Even if he wasn't, he's meant to be in your life for a reason.
It's a good thing you decided to give yourself space, because it's an ultimate test of friendship. You know that you can't live without this person, but maybe just not in that way.
You needed to start over.
Give yourself time, because in the end it will be worth it.
It will be worth it to wake up one day and feel okay again.
Yes, it's not bad to admit that you're hurting. Pain makes you human, so does love.
Obviously, you knew it was dangerous but you fell anyway. Not your fault, not a mistake. You had nothing to loose.
You had your pride.
But you learned how to swallow it for the person you were willing to fight tooth and nail for, even if you knew it wasn't worth it because they just didn't feel the same way.
Don't blame yourself for being confused. Being confused with the different kinds of love. Trying to find it in other people just so you can see if you could get over him.
Guess what? It didn't work, but again thats okay.
Yes, pain does make you loose your morals. It's inevitable and of course, it's also hard. It's hard to make the right decisions when you are blinded because you are so caught up in the feeling of being hurt.
But you know what?
You really kept it together. This might have been the most mature set of feelings you've had for a person. These feelings you knew were sure and real. These selfless feelings you've had because you knew you wanted another shot at the love that you wish you gave because in the past, you've received love and never gave it back.
You already know how important it is by now, and it's one thing to realize it and another to show it. You did both and you gave it a shot, even if in the end you didn't make it.
Dear self,
You deserve all the love that you have given.
All the love that you once gave to this special person who probably didn't deserve it as much. You gave so much love, but if you don't receive any you'll run out.
Maybe God is reserving you for the right person because He's waiting for the right time and place for it.
Thank you for knowing that, thank you for taking care of that person who has a special place in your heart even if it hurt so much. Thank you for not having bitter feelings like the past, for being more mature about everything. Also for accepting the fact that people will hurt you, even the ones you love, and even having the will to go on despite it.
You never gave up, you're not giving up on love. You're just wise to know when you've had enough.
Dear self,
You are a fighter.
Jun 8, 2015
Jun 8, 2015 at 10:04 PM UTC
Jellicle Cats come out tonight,
Jellicle Cats come one come all:
The Jellicle Moon is shining bright—
Jellicles come to the Jellicle Ball.
Jellicle Cats are black and white,
Jellicle Cats are rather small;
Jellicle Cats are merry and bright,
And pleasant to hear when they caterwaul.
Jellicle Cats have cheerful faces,
Jellicle Cats have bright black eyes;
They like to practise their airs and graces
And wait for the Jellicle Moon to rise.
Jellicle Cats develop slowly,
Jellicle Cats are not too big;
Jellicle Cats are roly-poly,
They know how to dance a gavotte and a jig.
Until the Jellicle Moon appears
They make their toilette and take their repose:
Jellicles wash behind their ears,
Jellicles dry between their toes.
Jellicle Cats are white and black,
Jellicle Cats are of moderate size;
Jellicles jump like a jumping-jack,
Jellicle Cats have moonlit eyes.
They’re quiet enough in the morning hours,
They’re quiet enough in the afternoon,
Reserving their terpsichorean powers
To dance by the light of the Jellicle Moon.
Jellicle Cats are black and white,
Jellicle Cats (as I said) are small;
If it happens to be a stormy night
They will practise a caper or two in the hall.
If it happens the sun is shining bright
You would say they had nothing to do at all:
They are resting and saving themselves to be right
For the Jellicle Moon and the Jellicle Ball.
11.3k
Dear God,
I know we have not talked for a while
but there are still some questions
I need you to answer.
I never doubt your existence,
but I doubt you are kind at heart.
Why did you give me eyes?
Only to see people suffer?
Only to see fathers
abusing their daughters,
mothers hurting their sons?
You give me eyes
and I want to scratch them out.
I am too tired of crying all night.
Why did you give me ears?
Only to hear endless screams?
Only to listen to stories of destruction,
of void and eternal dark,
of suicide, mother of all self-abuse.
Listen how smile turns into tears,
and silent whispers
becomes screams so loud,
and I can't stand them!
HELP! HELP! HELP!
Why did you give me ears
if they are of no use?
Why did you give me hands?
Only so I can touch the scars?
To feel the cuts on the inside?
To cut myself
with words,
not razors,
when I am trying to write.
Why in all this chaos of life
I feel like I was born
with my hands tied?
Why can't I stop them
from hurting others
and themselves,
from smoking another cigarette,
or from drinking,
until they drink themselves to death,
from going to bed with strangers,
out of pure disrespect for themselves,
from accepting the twisted judgments of society,
and carving the verdicts into their bodies and heads.
From taking strange medical substances,
and non-medical as well,
just to be accepted
by people that never care.
Why did you even give me heart?
Only to be broken?
By what? Love?
Bigger lie cannot be spoken!
It's just selfish desire
of touching the skin
of other human being.
Having control,
reserving their body
all for yourself.
Or worse,
sharing pieces of soul,
never to return,
when the cracks from within
reach out and break you apart.
Dear God,
I accept I'm inferior and so very limited,
but in your holiness and immortality,
why is there beauty,
laced with suffering,
innocence,
treated with hate,
happiness,
mixed with pain,
smile,
embraced with grief.
I understand
there is no rainbow
without the rain,
but give me some hope to believe...
Dec 26, 2014
Dec 26, 2014 at 3:13 AM UTC
1388
Those cattle smaller than a Bee
That herd upon the eye—
Whose tillage is the passing Crumb—
Those Cattle are the Fly—
Of Barns for Winter—blameless—
Extemporaneous stalls
They found to our objection—
On eligible walls—
Reserving the presumption
To suddenly descend
And gallop on the Furniture—
Or odiouser offend—
Of their peculiar calling
Unqualified to judge
To Nature we remand them
To justify or scourge—
2.7k
To My Dearest Love of All Time,
I'm going to allow you and give you the opportunity to find me. No, I mean, I will allow love to find us finally and lead us into each other. And no, I'm not expecting you to be somebody I know. for all I care, I'm living my life the best I can. I'm waiting for the time when we would finally meet. So, I hope you're living yours beautifully too.
My friends would casually ask me what's the best day I have ever lived, I haven't lived it yet as I'm reserving that day to be ours. Know that I'm waiting here patiently, although I'm not good at that -- waiting. But know that I'm giving the best that I can because I want to give my best to you. Don't shun away, walk that road into our Happily Ever After because when I would finally find you, I'll walk straight towards you or maybe run if it's not a very desperate move to do.
Is it possible to miss someone you haven't met? Because that's how I feel every time I think of you. Is it possible to love someone whom you still have to meet in the future? I have all my love reserved for you.
-- Criss ∞
Aug 14, 2014
Aug 14, 2014 at 9:46 PM UTC
1231
Somewhere upon the general Earth
Itself exist Today—
The Magic passive but extant
That consecrated me—
Indifferent Seasons doubtless play
Where I for right to be—
Would pay each Atom that I am
But Immortality—
Reserving that but just to prove
Another Date of Thee—
Oh God of Width, do not for us
Curtail Eternity!
1.9k
I can't keep
Regretting
Your dream of us
Never came true
While my dream
For myself
Is being realized
By someone else.
I can't keep
Going back
To our conversations,
Our only memories;
While I move forward
With him
To make the moments
You and I never had.
I can't keep
Confessing
The truth
To the questions
You never asked
While he provides
The same answers
I never got from you.
I can't keep
Telling myself
This is the last time
I will write
About you
While I keep promising
I will write
About him
And you can't keep
Reserving me
With a bookmark
So you can read me
Later for recreation
While he tries
To memorize me
Everyday as a ritual
Nov 14, 2014
Nov 14, 2014 at 3:55 AM UTC
I think the statement is true, if you stop loving someone you never did love them, and if you truly love someone you always will. I have people in my life that have hurt me, that I still deeply and passionately care about, whether they are aware of this or not. A part of loving is reserving a little spot of your heart to them, just them, and even if they decide not to take it, that they don't want it, or they've moved on, that spot always has their name on it. Always unconsciously waiting, reserved, just in case they ever want to return.
Jan 19, 2013
Jan 19, 2013 at 9:06 PM UTC
*Your kiss sweeter than life
And your love worth untold fortune
Your hate doth cause much strife
And puts my death in motion
When separate from you dear
My heart tis turns to ill
Yet having you so near
Doth cause my soul to fill
You wonder at the substance
Which fills my dying soul
You wonder what can heighten
this love, so beautiful
The matter which you wonder at
Is emotion new and old
There's no way to explain it
It's neither warm nor cold
It's neither fast nor slow
It never runs away
This feeling in my gut
Is forever here to stay
Let me now try to explain it,
you know it when it's there
It's almost like a virus
But the kind you want to share
It's as a special seasoning
you put upon your living
The feeling has no reasoning
And it's taking as its giving
Nothing can compare
I know not one that is deserving
To spend their life with you
But myself I'll be reserving
In case you find me worthy
To carry you through life
I'd happily stand by you
And take you as my wife*
-**Till the proper season.
When asking is permitted
I'll get down on one knee
And prove that I'm committed**
Lovingly written,
Conceived for beauty.
May 1, 2016
May 1, 2016 at 3:26 PM UTC
As she runs through the forest, smitten with excitement, she passes tall pines and even fallen pines, in an effort to find the lover ahead of her.
He walks in a daze, as if stuck in a daydream, rendered useless by the magnification of her beauty and the way he feels with her arms wrap as tightly as she can around him in embrace.
She stops to call his name, never thinking of who, or what, else may come calling instead, for she does not fear the woods, but the thought of never seeing her love again.
He begins to become impatient with not knowing the locality of his precious love, and he begins to quicken his pace in his most confident direction, feeling only with his heart.
She is having indecision in her selection of direction, and doubts her current course, stopping again to ponder the true path she should take....creeping thoughts of the forest come after unfamiliar noises arose.
He is in full sprint, looking franticly in each direction as he runs, yelling her name with each possible breath he can spare, sure to find her quickly reserving no vigor for potential encounters.
She is starting to despair with the thought of being lost and never finding her prince, she cries such tears, that she creates a stream with the tears for her lost love.
He begins to tire and feels distraught over the whereabouts of his love, he know she is alone in the forest, and in his anguish stumbles upon a stream, he splashes the warm water on his face washing away grief.
As night falls, she begins to realize that she may never find her love, and she cries harder, until her tears and herself...become the stream in her bereavement
As shade covers all, he sees her in his heart, but fears he will never see her again, and to avoid cold he finds refuge in the pools of the warm stream....becoming a tree in his sorrow.
Ages pass...a young boy sits at the base of a very large tree and watches the stream of the warmest water disappear into the tree...living together forever...one is the purpose...the other the life.
The tree cannot be without the water......but the water is not needed without the tree...
Jan 27, 2014
Jan 27, 2014 at 9:10 AM UTC
Lethargy
crept up on me
in the beginning,
in a slithering,
sordid sort
of way.
Retreating,
the opening,
the closing doors kept
repeating
themselves
and left me
depleted;
porous woodwork,
ashen, decrepit;
the walls that wept
dust mites
in the absence of
a keeper,
in the absence
of light.
What a wicked way,
what a thing to say
to a skeleton in his grave,
rattling sporadically,
stench of love decayed.
Gracefully laid down,
head full of gray clouds,
reserving respect
for all those dead sounds,
keeping kindness
for my pallid hounds.
Oct 20, 2014
Oct 20, 2014 at 5:50 PM UTC
the forgotten child is nearing the end of their adolescence.
these thoughts have swam inside them for a decade
rumbling, roaring, ramming against their barricade
it was not me that was forgotten, but the naïve child inside me
i've spent a decade reserving my right to tell the awaited rescuer
that the child and i prefer to stay at our safe haven.
i am a body of 22, but a mind of 12
naïve 12 turned pitiful, pessimistic 14 turned people-pleaser 17
turned naive 18 turned pitiful, pessimistic 20 turned
please just come back, why did you never come back
i'll never stop wondering why i had to create my own safe haven
i've spent a decade reserving my right to turn away my wrongdoer
it's silly of me to think that you returning makes you a rescuer
nature versus nurture, a baby bird kicked from the comfy nest
a decade-long vacation from being a parent, abandoned until i grew
the forgotten child is nearing the end of their adolescence.
Jun 30, 2021
Jun 30, 2021 at 1:05 AM UTC
In a tragedy I'm collapsing from a canopy above me
falling onto a cobblestone platform beside you, fatally.
You remain dormant as I shriek at you and shove you
in an attempt to animate and awaken you.
And like before you have no passion for the golden stars
on your agenda that you persist on our own personal Mars.
Your delusions still follow narratives like a script
with fabrications that you wrote, reserving our crypt.
So now I melt into your back until we dream together in a morgue,
forced down by the weight of our cancerous lips in this cancer ward.
Nurses of alabaster and indigo serenade and encompass us
with cumbersome shovels cradling earth meant to bury us.
You tucked us into our tomb a little too soon
and now your blood runs cold as mine runs maroon.
I want to dig you up but you want us buried together beneath the moon.
I'm screaming and swearing and sullen and aching and laughing and sobbing and apologizing.
Jan 28, 2017
Jan 28, 2017 at 1:19 PM UTC
*Your live real in nick name
not in formal
Your live real driving in mad
not in happy
Your live real while bathing
not when dressed
Your live real in hug
during night not in day
Your live real in ***
during ****** not in lust
Your live real in chewing
food not in swallowing
Your live real in saving
watching bees not in advice
your live real in surprise
reserving emotion for loss not in gain..*
Feb 22, 2016
Feb 22, 2016 at 9:36 PM UTC
People choose to give their opinions
When you never asked for them
It’s hard to have compassion
When it feels like you never win
It’s hard to hold onto the good
When you hands are tied behind your back
And life refuses to cut you any slack.
I need to take a break
Just a moment to breathe
I’m trapped within these walls
With people who can’t be please
It seems like nothing is done with any urgency.
No one to count on
If you want the work done
Everyone looking to cut corners
Even in conversation.
As if you’re in the way of their agenda and tasks
The questions they ask
About your day
Only have to do with what they want to say.
Conversation can’t be completed
Because people are always competing
To have the last word,
To be heard,
Even filling up the air time with uhms and errs
Reserving their speech
All you can do is listen and wait
And you begin to remember
You called them first
Barely able to spit in just a few words
You were the initiator, when did this reverse?
Now you regret ever calling at all
Thinking you’d be happy with silence
Than little fillers and empty language.
I once told a boy, who didn’t stop talking the moment we met
“You have been talking this entire time.”
I felt awful, like I was a little out of line.
But you should have seen what happened to his eyes,
It was like he snapped back to reality
Then quickly apologized, not even having realized
It was twenty-five minutes of a personal monologue.
Now I give most people the benefit of the doubt,
If after ten minutes I have said not a word
I’ll interject, and I’ve learned
There is no polite way to interrupt
The experiences I have had thus far
People didn’t even know what they were doing
Which to me, seems frightening.
These are the same people we see driving or operating.
Then some,
Just like the sound of their own voice
In those cases, they are a lost case
As a practical joke,
By them a voice recorder
Once you give it to them and they look a little confused
It will be an inside joke between me and you.
Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 2:18 PM UTC
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Nov 20, 2015
Nov 20, 2015 at 12:53 AM UTC
Unfounded urgency draws
Us out and toward impaling claws.
Body fails on desert shore
Where charging fog unravels with no sea to ride.
We cannot imagine coast
Tearing through our raging ghost.
Nor can we remember or
Forget this comfort of eternal attrition
Reaching skyward ever, more,
With all earth’s heave behind our roar.
The bleak sunlight quiets most;
Drained survivors drawn back toward retreating silence.
From out here. Quiet yet reserving might
For each war against shadow-giving light.
And each dark day we still reach for the moon
As persistently as in illumed night.
May 27, 2015
May 27, 2015 at 9:55 PM UTC
I cannot trust a stranger’s touch.
Holding back giving to much,
Reserving enough of my love
To protect myself
From becoming shattered
Blood stained glass
Feb 21, 2016
Feb 21, 2016 at 5:21 PM UTC
Purple Petals
Summer at last
It's almost already gone past
Flowers still in bloom
Here's a purple one just for you.
I'll place it here just for you
Hoping it calls to you
Will you come visit me soon?
It could even be at noon.
Summer sweet tea
Just the way you like it
I'll pour you a glass
If I can just ask,
How have you been?
It is bright and sunny?
I hope it's filled with laughter and your favorite flavored honey
Or maybe that sweet candy coffee you'd make
In that green cup you'd never forget to take
It still sits there
Maybe not where you left it
But I made sure I kept it.
I use it as a vase
For the flowers in my garden
Reserving it for the purple ones
Because I know it's your favorite color
And now it's mine too
It makes me feel so close to you
Purple petals cover the ground
All the hues, make me miss you
I just wish I didn't dismiss you
Because I didn't know how much time we had left
Now I can only move forward
Towards the sun, remembering to have fun
For you, dear mother.
Jul 28, 2025
Jul 28, 2025 at 2:22 PM UTC
When a luke warm shower is more comforting
than memories of your hands pressed to my hips:
this is me loving myself.
Poking at bruises on my thighs, forearm, neck
(none of which were caused by you):
this is me loving myself.
Words aren't running off of my fingertips anymore
and the muscles in my hands don't twitch.
You were my muse
and I will carry you in my words.
Un purposefully reserving a place for you in myself:
This is me loving you,
this is me letting go.
Jan 22, 2013
Jan 22, 2013 at 4:46 PM UTC
I have loved before, numerous times even.
But I have never been in love, until there was you.
It was different, to love was just to like the feeling. To feel secure, to know that out there, you have that one person you can just hang out with or to assure you that you are not alone. Sometimes you even tend to love because just because you don't want to be lonely.
With you it's something else. I was in love. It was about the sense of security despite the distance. It was about knowing that we will not falter even if we don't get to see each other every day, or if we get to be with other people and not just each other. It was being whole by yourself, yet you become much better when together. Who would want tho halves just to form a whole? Two wholes is always greater than 2 halves. It was about being secure with making future plans because you know that whatever happens, whatever we will be going through... We know we will make it happen. It was about imagining a life together and working out how to spend the rest of our lives. There may be arguments, fights, yes. But these aren't for the purpose of breaking us, but instead, were meant to make us even stronger. To deepen our bonds, to know more about each others' weaknesses and use them as stepping stones for a better relationship up ahead.
And yes, I could go on and on... But one thing is clear. I have come to realize that you are indeed, once in a lifetime. I would love to spill some more thoughts but I will be reserving them for sometime else... ;) But rest assured, you will hear them. Or better yet, you will feel them.
Anne, remember that someone out here is in love with you. Deeper and deeper every day. Always, until the rest of her lifetime. :)
Yours and only yours,
Mims
Nov 12, 2013
Nov 12, 2013 at 5:58 PM UTC
Applause to this object
A star to look up,—
But stands lower than a house
Who gathered all the fantasies— of hopeless travellers,— Which seek for devoted fancies.
Sparkling garlands,—
Simply, a life of itch
Flashlights everywhere on the platform,— Inutile to its basis
I memorize the trades of their toasts—
One day, I shall have my own boast.
After wiping spots on gold bars,—
I am still not a debauchee of love;
Even if they buzz,— Beehives— Are not mine to offer,—
But a gourmet to their stomach.
Assets clothing their merchants—
Reserving the furnitures—
To show the best features
For myself, I want a slammed window,—
Not some firm statues
"Galatea, we all desire Galatea!"
How adorable when 'twas knotted,
Lovely, but not loved,
Sheltered, yet not protected;
Paid, but not proclaimed
How many landlords will adapt me?
There is a target—
To a sudden stampede—
Oh, how startling!
Please, capture me
I will submit to your traps!
This bird is willing to be caged— Away!
I may now have my arrows— To run the bay!
Flipped death is my reward..
May 21, 2020
May 21, 2020 at 2:56 AM UTC
despite popular belief
your hands do not bend the light of the sun
your lips do not pour truth and sugar
and there are scissors in your gaze
sitting next to your decisions
i let them hold my hands
and hold my mouth on your command
six pounds of fine print
six pounds of guile
you only love me when im silent
i am not stupid
i am not a fire prince
nor will i live to earn something that you refuse to give
however there are other factors, always,
like survival
kaleidoscope collage
your cuts are carefully connected
fingers of precision and denial
this was your causing and creation
and yet your language is laced with words as if you would be hurt by my exile
perhaps it will come that you understand love
but as it stands you believe it is hunger
to love is to know to demand and control
i pity your vision of family
a sliding scale of humanity
what gives you the idea it is a choice
what makes you think there is a weight difference in voice
like you have the right to someones needs
and reserving them for trials
performance should not be required
for simple decency
and yet here we stand
in front of the pyramids
like women perhaps
but no human for miles and miles
Oct 22, 2023
Oct 22, 2023 at 10:48 PM UTC