What can life offer anyway
That I can't have with you in death?
What feels more like home anyway
Than it does besides your grave?
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Future love
Perhaps one day you'll hold me, once and forever.
Intoxicated we will be, lost in each other.
And then in the dark, you will touch the right parts of me.
In hushed tones I will show you, that you and I were meant to be.
Then slowly I will learn, how to truly love me.
And gently I will heal, like all my grief ceased to exist.
I want to kill myself just enough for you to visit. Atleast then I'll get to see you somewhere that's not just my dreams.
What a subtle form of self harm it is to love you.
Such a gruesome death to die.
What a comfort it is to be to be loved by you.
Such a torment it is to be not.
Unguarded
I'm sorry I let you see me unguarded.
Let you see my darkness, left you forever haunted.
I'm sorry I killed you with my insecurities.
The atrocity, your ghost is keeping me company.
I'm sorry If I ever dared to make you cry.
For even the skies could fade at the blue of your eyes.
I'm sorry I could never quite be adequate.
You deserve everything and I'm so horribly limited.
I'm sorry I dreamt of us, peaceful under the moon.
A fever dream for someone who only knows how to ruin.
I'm sorry I blamed everything on the distance.
I can't get you to love me without this deafening silence.
I'm sorry I ever thought that we were binary stars.
Always said "I understand" even with a shattered heart.
I'm sorry I didn't listen to my obscene thoughts.
When they precisely said that misery was all I brought.
I'm sorry my hatred wasn't loud enough to hide yours.
A wreckage cannot be loved. I should've hidden my scars.
I'm sorry I ever let you see the real me.
I'll stay constrained just so you won't leave.
I'll hide myself a little to help you breathe.
I fell for you gently as leaves do on a dreary autumn evening.
You continued to bloom delicately as you were the sweetest child of spring.
Unnoticed for years, my world has been touched by you.
In running away from home, I found a home in you.
I fell for you, like hades fell for persephone
And I am falling, like moon falls around the earth still.
I write this with my love, hoping that you might see this too.
I share this with the world, but really it only ever was for you.
And I wonder
Your voice so sweet through a telephone.
Your presence is a comfort, oh it feels like home.
Dancing on your roof while it's raining above.
And i wonder if you feel it grow.
Your touch like velvet, would I ever refrain?
Honey brown eyes, oh they drive me insane.
A nasty chase and we meet again.
And I wonder if you'd like to stay.
Your skin shines bright like an afterglow.
Your laugh's a symphony, oh I wish I could own.
Your love is a cure, I'm a ruined soul.
And I wonder if you'll ever know.
You were scared to ruin me
I assured you that you wouldn't
The unsaid truth was this:
I was already ruined
Long before I met you
Long before I knew how to love
And even before you became my home
.
But you left and it felt like death
Everyone said I'd get used to it
The cruel desire was this:
I don't want to get used to you
I don't want time to heal me
I always want you to be
An unbearable ache that kills me
.
My mind is being held hostage by you
And even in grief you feel like home
The maddening question is this:
Will you love the monster in me?
Will you love me at the end of the world?
Will you simply just love me?
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You were like the sea
The delicate intimacy of you visiting my dreams. Only then I get to see you.
The sea, with all its hurricanes, all its storms. It reminds me of you.
Watching you fall in love and out of love. But never with me.
You were like the sea, with all its stillness. And all its peace.
My intense longing for you to stay. So hopeless yet so ardent.
Because just like the sea you were. Always changing yet so persistent.
Pic via pinterest
Is it normal to grieve yourself?
And still yearn the grief?
To know you'll be eternally hurting,
Why is it such a relief?
I don't think I could ever stop writing completely.
permillion44
The poem as prey, as blood luscious, elusive. The poem as the locked room.
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