#poetry on love

[lamentofspring]

— haley nichole green, excerpt from hope & a cup of tea

[die-rosastrasse]

[thehumbleonewrites]

It makes me sick to my stomach the way I left you

You didn't deserve the way those words dripped like honey

Coating the ground so you slipped over every time trying to grab a hold of each feeling.

My biggest apology is my biggest regret

You didn't deserve the way I ripped your heart

from your chest..

-sticky situations.

G.s.

[toomagazineperfection]

Sometimes, she. She is the burn of sun. Ache of perfect. Whim of world. A great actor. She feels every living breath of life and pauses to carry them. Of night, is but a. Everything is perfect of her. Of lies that war in the deep girl whose night is but a. Everything falls short in front of her. In nights of her, I daunt. I lie. Of fervour and great tragedy. Of night and her might. Of sea. Of hope. Of greatness that sleeps like the eyes of her. Of hopes that talk like the hunch of life. Of God that speaks of life as lie. Of love that wars like sea. Of nights I dwell within the lie. She. Hers is a never ending poem. Of nights that start at the ilk of poem. Of the poem, that she. Of the night, sea works like her might. Of oceans that gossip her wind. Of light that works like a mirror. Of poet, that was a lie. A niche, of hedges that whirl. Of her. Her.

Sunidhi

[dame-nostalgique]

~From the unfinished poems in the back of my journal

[ednacsworld]

"How many times do I have to pray to forgive?

Letting the burst of a millisecond becoming stiff

on my hand while they beg me to never leave

their side as if I have any idea how to shift

the train of unhinged thoughts on the wall with grief

that comes from the love I have never received?"

Unanswered by Edna C.

[coffeexxcigarettes]

Indiscretion

-

I don't believe I was created

To be a bad person.

My soul was forced into this reality,

Burnt by what they called love,

Ripped apart by what you referred to

As family.

To manage the blaze,

I found a flower within the smoke.

A brief reprieve from a world on fire.

You'll have to excuse my sickness;

The way I cough up blood beside you.

To destroy another in the name of

Your own happiness?

I curl beside the flower,

My breathing labored.

It shivers in the destruction.

I don't believe I was created to be

A bad person.

But I don't know if a good person

Would long for the flower,

Rather than fall to the flames.

x

[sunidhis-blog]

Dearest,

I work hours of lie. I love with hunger. I lie in the wail sadness of moon. Of love, I run. I am teeth in hungry bones. Of death. I snippet. I whirl. I dame. I dain. I walk myth hours of sleep. Of night, that is a said whirl of courage. Of walking sight I dim wonts of lies. Of dying madness, I loop a night. I love. Of waking hours, I cremate a courage. A lie of work loads. Of death, I die. I love of death, I stun. I refurbish a girl and lie to his arch. Of madness, I deep. Of death, I don't. I walk in the aisle of honor. Of death, I die.

Sunidhi

[v4l3nt1n3sd4ysf4v0ur1t3]

The leadup to love is lust.

You breathe in her pollen,

And exhale a false sense of love and want.

Inhale her,

exhale the misery of being left.

She may be gone for only a blink,

but who says it's a real one?

She comes back and you think an untended spark is lit,

little do you know that night of ember was mere of ash.

Untitled, 2024, by Valentine's Day's Favourite

[cosmic-blogs]

TO BE

I wear life on my soul, 

as a badge of honour.

For it taught me well, to say,

I am not a cynic, I am not a stoic.

I am not a saint, I am not a sinner.

I am not a blank canvas.

I am not your mirror.

No part of me was for you to claim.

Wholly or partially.

When I disposses all, finally,

having been with you does not 

become a crime.

It could not have been any different 

The power was never yours or mine.

I don't belong to anyone

Yet I am not unclaimed.

I am no one's glory

I am no one's game.

I wasn't born unfree of risks.

Nor was I meant to be safe.

I am a portal

That brings life to life.

For it to fold however it may.

In love or in strife.

Be it a tragedy or a game.

I was not the shoulder, 

you could rest your blame.

I am as fiercely my own.

As the love I know to give.

I am as breathless to a gasp

As I am death, to the need to live.

I shine more in utter solitude.

Than in the company, of a hundred one.

I see through disdain disguised

As platitude.

So I seek to renounce eclipses

You hide behind the sun.

I have known ecstasies

I have known grief

But I am neither a rejoicer

No am I a mourner.

I am,

that is all.

The same at this end

As in the corner.

And this life I wear upon my 

soul as a badge of honour.

.

.

[lamentofspring]

— haley nichole green, excerpt from when in the moors

[happy-mokka]

"And did you get what you wanted from this life, even so?"

"I did."

"And what did you want?"

"To call myself beloved, to feel myself beloved on the earth."

"Late Fragment"

by Raymond Carver

from "A new Path to the Waterfall"

[thehumbleonewrites]

I was asked how I take my coffee,

To which I replied..

I like mine sweet with a touch of bitter. To remind me that things that are often sweet, when they leave, will still stain a dirty taste in your mouth while they're gone..

but the taste will never compare to anything else and will forever be craved each day again..

[toomagazineperfection]

Look at you, ocean?

A condensed milk poetry.

A nine months in her love cycling bliss.

A night in her night.

A noon in her pearl.

An earring.

A sight.

A sing in her lie.

A sight in her lover hare.

A vision to let leave, a lot poetry.

Watchin'. Get to me, endlessly.

You and us.

Create.

Share.

Shyre.

Poet.

Sinkingly.

Dreaming like a water snooze.

A stay with it. Dreading of wilding love honests with her.

Endlessly seek thrust snippets of her into me.

Her.

Sunidhi

[thepastisapebbleinmyshoe]

I loved him, In tangled sheets, and half asleep.

he loved, the stranger beside him, a beautiful disaster, he thought he could keep.

with a soul too wild, to be chained to him. she dreamed, of paradise.

He craved control, and the thought of forever, touching his own lies.

We're Not Lovers