Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
You're so beautiful in the mornings
With your wild hair and grumpy mood
Mumbling about the early alarm
Scrunched eyes, looking for your glasses
Saying good morning to me quietly 
Even sometimes still groggy
Even sometimes half asleep 
I get to wake up to that 
And every morning
I get to fall in love all over again
Slice me open and cut him out.
Use the sharpest scalpel and most precise
technique to dislodge what I've found.
Pump me full of oxygen
opening a valve for my revitalization.
My lips are blue from holding my breath
waiting for his kiss.
May the surgeon be a master with his hands
to ensure every last bit of him is removed.
Not a spec missed.
Check my vitals so I don't asphyxiate on my own
chunks of delusion.
Stitch me up good and tight so that
his essence has no way to infect me.
Pray for a speedy recovery as I mend and heal.
Off to rehab for me as I rediscover who I was meant to be.
No pills or therapy please.
Perhaps one day the healed me will
crash into him and I'll still
be in one piece.
Did I fall in love with a wrong girl?
Cause it just hurt me every time
I love her but sometimes it's hard
I feel like I am forced to love her

Did she intentionally do things to hurt me
I don't know the answer, I tried
Am asking myself, Am tired of asking
My heart is weak, my mind is numb

I feel like a piece of paper, that has been flying
I don't know where i will land or get destroyed
I feel like I don't even cared about myself
I'm lost , I'm lost , I'm lost
I 'm wishing someone to find me and save me
And if words
Abandon me too,
I'd dip this pen with your name,
Into the river of my veins.
So my soul could tell,
That you are
The poetry
That pulses within me.
I love you. Even if I can't have you.
i found one—
far from the mess i was drowning in.
a place that truly felt like home.

where i didn’t have to pretend i was okay
when i wasn’t.
where someone cared
if i had eaten,
if i had slept,
if i was really okay.

where i didn’t have to fake a smile
because being there
was the reason i could finally smile for real.

where it was okay to cry,
where i could tease him
and laugh like a child again.

where i didn’t need to explain my silence—
he understood it.
where i was loved
for being the strange, soft,
messy version of me—
no masks, no judgment.

where i wasn’t alone,
where my tears had a shoulder to land on,
and his voice
could quiet every storm inside me.

that’s the home i found—
not a place,
but a person.
i finally found my home........
Poetry is still
written between the lines,
like a language without a map.
We are the only ones
who have not read it.

That poem is that smile
that flows through the
eastern mountains hidden
in the snow with the pouring rain,
without touching the rocks.

That smile is
never indecipherable,
but it carries the
rhythm of time,
the music of society,
the scent of forgotten paths
and the sweet language
of women.

The riots are still not less
Even though the
old letters
have faded
Only some songs
we don't know
we don't know
In many ways I was broken,
No matter what, never was shaken,
All my happiness is now taken,
My emotions ran behind you, leaving forsaken…

My sorrows, an incident well-orchestrated,
My happiness was buried deep and now it has departed
From my life, which was very well decorated,
You arrived, now into pieces it’s shattered…

My world is dark and quiet with your absence,
Everything around me looks empty, all at once,
However far, no matter the distance,
On this earth, I will cherish your existence…

My heart wants to pour love as a shower,
So your memories will bloom like a flower,
My emotions within runs like a wild river,
My love for you is forever…

By
Sanji-Paul Arvind
In your departure, my pain unfurls,
A heartbreak, how my tale swirls.
Painted with sadness on the love I laid,
A farewell in colors, you portrayed.

You painted me in color of grey and blue,
For I am a monster, but not entirely true.
The pain of being cast as the villain,
In a story that left my soul chillin'.

Yet deeper lies another pain,
Born from society's judgments, plain.
Various unkind opinions born,
Judging me of things I have not done.

But in this pain, a new beginning takes root,
Strength rising from all the dispute.
For in your leaving, a chance to reclaim,
The colors of self, to self-love, I proclaim.

Let pain be a temporary art,
A chapter of pain, not the whole book of heart.
May healing wash away all conflicts & strife,
And reveal with a newfound life.


By
Sanji-Paul Arvind
A forest that grows on pain,
A scar on every leaf.
Yet,
A day that does not wait for death,
Silence says that tomorrow will come.
Limes Carma Apr 29
When you’ve done enough
The sorrow will fade in the lack of clear thoughts and the beats of a broken heart will eventually stop
© Copyright 2025 - Limes Carma
Next page