#aroace poem

[zenithxenith]

don’t like citrus

By: Jef Zeñero also known as Sing :3

Don’t like citrus, never did.

Don’t like citrus, not my thing.

Don’t like citrus, not oranges, not lemons, not limes.

Don’t like citrus, not grapefruit, not even the rime.

I sit at the table, four of a kind, aces sit there, while oranges fill the middle.

Sitting at the edge small, little—

Never suspected when faced away, inconspicuous.

Orange, yellow, green, bright, the bold colors.

Waiting for chance, to smear red.

Suits up—

Stands up—

Arrow through the ace's heart.

Ace through the arrow’s tip.

You say you like this organic zest—

This sting of bold fruits—

The sting is to protect.

Not to swallow—

Not to like—

Not to ingest.

Some are bold, liking the challenge.

To some it’s good.

To me it’s foul.

Citrus doesn’t like me, I don’t like it.

Don’t splash it in my face, 

not even once.

I never liked it.

I tried to convince myself I did.

That was an era I wish I never lived, but I did.

I did with bravery and confidence,

the curiosity overwhelming—

Not once did I have the juice that others enjoyed.

Not once did I need it to survive.

Don’t believe what they say—

Or do. Or do.

I don’t like citrus, citrus.

Not even the grapefruit can make me comprehend,

Why I need this, why I should have it.

Why I should see it, why I should know it.

Why the mind of that ace with the arrow through its heart should have to be forced into a relationship of spite.

Why the club of that ace with the arrow through its heart should have to be used to be seen more, to be understood.

Why the diamond of that ace, with an arrow in its heart should have to be dulled to a grime.

Why the spade of that ace should be used to bury the unpleasant crowd.

Why should anyone have to be forced to see why the citrus should run the world—

Should be essential—

Should be mine.

I never liked citrus, never did.

Never liked citrus, never my thing

Never liked citrus, not oranges, not lemons, not limes.

Never liked citrus, never the grapefruit, never the rime.

[trickstersaint]

i want to introduce you all to a project that is very close to my heart... or lack of one. anyway. for anyone who has ever wanted to play a poem. i'd like you to meet aromanticism

(link opens itch.io - she'll run on html in your browser! please be nice to her!)

[cheesemenace]

That was beautiful

"You wouldn't understand because

You've never been in love,"

Not in a traditional sense, no,

But is it not love that flows through me?

The way I'd once viewed you as my sun,

The others being my stars

Is that love not enough for you?

"Of course it's not"

I speak to myself

As I hold her in my trembling arms

The dark room empty

Yet suffocating

Is it not love,

how I nursed you back to health?

When you couldn't move or stand?

"Not enough for them,"

I speak once more,

To the child in my grasp

"Why can't they see that I do know love?"

She whispers into the dark

"It's not your fault,"

I reply simply, as tears run down her cheeks

"Love is complex, they don't know themselves,"

The words fall on deaf ears

A shattered soul

Lost in the dark

I hope someday she'll see,

And I know that she is me

Love isn't that one thing,

A wedding with a ring

It's all around us,

Flourishing, blooming

In the winds that spread pollen,

The stars that shine at night

In the arms that hold us closely,

When nothing seems quite right

I know there's love within me,

Though maybe not your kind

And I hope one day you'll see me

When you stop being so blind

Love is the laughter shared,

The tears we shed together

It's the moments that we think of

When we can't stand the weather

I love all and none,

And sometimes too much

Never nothing

And it helps me see

Though you'd never agree

That I am love,

And love is me

[asbeel]

I love Pride Month, but it can be quite melancholy sometimes.

I can't be proud if I have to hide myself

I can't even be proud in my own room

I hid my pride flag in my closet, away from my family's view. Poetic, isn't it?

Proud as I can be within the confinements of my cage.

(6/2/2024)

[writerinturmoil]

The Squish

-Kimberly Rivera

I met them at a cowboy-themed party

Stetson hats, flannel shirts, cowboy boots

Fiddle and twangy guitar blasting loud

Scruffy people shuffling in a line

We spent the next three hours discussing Medieval France

(The Hundred Years’ War, The Norman Conquest, Battle of Tours)

And our favorite ice cream flavors

(Zanzibar, lime, Moose Tracks)

We both like The Color Purple and A Clockwork Orange

Apple juice with Corn Flakes

Walks along the bubbling brook

Stargazing on moonless nights

I learned about doo-wop

(The Harptones, The Moonglows, The Five Keys)

I taught them about Victorian poetry

(Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Matthew Arnold, Oscar Wilde)

We exchanged contact information

Boy, do I have a “squish” on them

I hope they have a “squish” on me

And then the party ended with a yee-haw and a “Hell yeah!��

Note:

What is a squish?

A squish is a platonic crush. It's when you get to know someone and have an intense desire to become friends with them. People in the aro and ace communities commonly use this term.

[smowyashe]

Sometimes

Sometimes I'm a boy

Sometimes I'm a girl

Sometimes I'm both

Sometimes I'm neither

Sometimes I'm something else

Something I'm a mess of it all

Sometimes I'm all human

Sometimes I'm all animal

Sometimes I'm halfway

Sometimes I'm a mix

Sometimes I'm happy

Sometimes I'm sad

Sometimes I'm lonely

Sometimes I'm angry

Sometimes I'm not sure what I feel

Sometimes I'm in love

Sometimes I'm not

Sometimes I'm figuring it out

Sometimes I'm scared about it

Sometimes I'm sure of it

Sometimes I'm attracted to girls

Sometimes I'm attracted to boys

Sometimes I'm not attracted

Sometimes I'm attracted to in betweens

Sometimes I'm attracted to the others

Sometimes I'm attracted to the nothings

All the time I'm me

[knifearo]

everybody! quick! tell me what aro joy means to you <2

[toomuchdivergentformyneuro]

the sun doesn’t know that the moon wishes to be engulfed by him.

the sun doesn’t know the moon wishes the sun to have many stars see him in all his glory.

the sun doesn’t know the moon looks up at all the billions of stars each night and day and wishes on each and every one that the sun can burn brighter, can calm his soul, and can feel at peace at last.

the sun doesn’t know the moon wishes to hold the sun’s hand, to be caressed by his warmth, even when others are scared by his heat.

the sun doesn’t know the moon sees him and loves him, even when his light dwindles a little sometimes.

the sun doesn’t know the moon will always cherish the sun, even when he doesn’t know how to cherish himself.

the sun doesn’t know the moon will always be grateful for the sun’s glow, even when the sun wishes that he didn’t glow so bright, cuz the moon will always be bright because of him and so many other planets will be alive and themselves with him there.

the sun doesn’t know the moon will love him always and forever, through thick and thin, through night and day, through death and life.

[myformofbeauty]

Does anyone else feel this way?

I think I fall a little bit in love with everyone I meet, it’s nice that way. I don’t understand how people are only supposed to be in love with one person when everyone has a special quality about them. I mean some people just have really nice eyes y’know? Or when you get to know someone personally, how can you not start admiring something so specific about their personality? Like a secret talent they have, or how happy they look while talking about their future plans and goals. I don’t know if I’ll ever experience romantic love, but I certainly know that I will always admire my loved ones, friends, and even strangers.

- Sincerely an asexual.

[booksdogsmagicandmore]

What if “love is love”

Doesn’t cover my sins?

What if I just can’t love

Though they say that love wins

Yes, I have friends and family,

You know that’s not what they mean

Maybe that’s why “love loses”

Is what makes me feel seen

I reach out for acceptance

But some just throw stones

They think I need a soul mate

To have a soul of my own

[loveless-deer]

Cuddling with you evokes the sort of feeling that

I want to write poetry about.

I will try to hold onto it.

Forever.

[bbyshifts]

I want a lover|relationship even if I am aroace.

I want to write cute poems to someone,

I want to write cute letters to someone,

I want to hug someone and never letting them go,

I want to kiss someone,

I want to give my love to someone even if platonic.

A QPR or not, just having someone to love too would be amazing.

[just-some-moss-and-bones]

because i love you in green.

but you love them in pink.

(an accidental poem that i wrote as a rant, but it needed more weight)

Something about being aroace spec

and feeling like i cant offer close relationships

in the "propper" way,

and so, i never will

have that deep connection

with the people i love

because they dont see me as someone

who can love in that way.

And its not their fault and its not really mine

because were friends and i love them

but they love other people

in a way i dont understand

and even if they loved me

it wouldnt be right

because its

diferent.

because i love you in green

but you love them in pink

[disposabletapedispenser]

i will twist you into the spaces between my ribs,  memorize you in song and color and breath.  i will memorize your patterns of speech,  your voice and the shape of your eyes. 

i will pretend you into being at my side— a ghost of what it will mean to have you in months or years,  when the space folds shut,  i’ll still be waiting. 

i will pull every secret and story you’re willing to give i will lock them in a box with my lungs i will memorize the shape of your hands and the touch of your breath and treasure the moments we spend. 

i will capture you in my mind’s eye to carve out the space in my heart i will keep you to fill i will learn the path of the smile to your face, and the course of your laugh from your chest—

and maybe when you’re here we will see the strings that bind us  that pulled you to me in the beginning they are written as red in the stories i read— i’d like to think ours would be green. 

i will learn the weight of love with nothing to hold us apart— the same as your head on my shoulder i take a bit of your weight, you take a fraction of mine some people belong. 

there is such a thing as forever.

there is something beyond the usual romantic love there is devotion, the exchange of soul and joy and pain  there is the room we have made for each other with so much more to go, so much to gain. 

there are dreams i will force unto earth and you are one of them.  i will learn what it is to love you in person—

no matter how long, you will always be worth it. 

[crimsonteaaddict]

To be loved, to experience attraction. For all that is wrong with me, I can love. I do love, just maybe not the way I wish I could. Attraction formed from aperciation, the non-sexual kind, fizzles into a deep respect and admiration. I can not lust, I can understand, but whether you call it platonic or romantic, what I experience for the people I love, my friends, stays all the same. And maybe one day that will be enough for someone.

[onetimemacaroni]

I've been writing poems where I try for fun to make my own pantheon and I "accidentally" (read: on purpose because it's cool as fuck) made the gods of life and death transmasc and transfem, they swapped jobs a thousand years back because they were getting bored. Also, they are probably the most aroace of the gods and as such hold a beloved place in my heart alongside the god of winter who is just cold and lonely and just wants some friends