r/Poems

Gazing above, into the prussian canvas, Stitched with threads of silver lace, You're the untamed cloud I always tend to chase.

While I a placid mirror below, I hush of water in wait, longing to meld into you. to tumble again mild, unbothered, undefined yet beautifully insane.

Together were meant to unfurl..
you in the falling crystal hymns. Softening as a hase like one sunbeams fracture through my linen veils

As blazing as a desert mirage yet, the ache to behold you never fades,
I etch you in every fragment of me, Trace you along every ridge of my palms
Cling to you in every thought that further fades...

Each breath- a tangle of you & me as always, your essence, my cologne, Your nearness, my only home.

And perhaps, id like to be you drug, That calms, that soothes, Just that kind which you crave, You, just you, Like right now? And oh silly me, trying to be sane

If yearning is a language, we’re really fluent in pain, Come, lets breath again.

Imagine a messenger.

You don't know them.

They have something to say.

What they say could be anything.

It could be truth.

It could be lies.

It could be both.

It could be fiction dressed as truth

or truth dressed as fiction.

You can't tell from their diction which it is.

Would you listen?

What if it costs only the time to take it in?

Let's add some character.

Let's say this messenger isn't unknown.

Not entirely.

What if they represent an important democracy?

Could they give you information

about a group in your kingdom?

Your wife, sister, mother?

Would you listen?

What if the words are aggressive?

What if the messenger looks angry?

What if the message carries hate?

Not just hate, but a cause for it.

I promise you will suffer no physical harm from it.

Will you listen?

It costs only the time to take it in.

Are you afraid of losing the seconds it takes to hear?

"Sire,

Why are you shivering?

Your guards are so near.

I cannot say if I agree, I've yet to hear what she has to say.

She says she hates Kings but..

If I may:

She's only known the worst sort

that would name themselves that way.

Can we allow her words to stay?

Maybe we can help her redefine them in our hands.

Show her what a King means in these lands."

I've heard enough.

"What have you heard?

She hasn't begun to speak.

Why are you turning red?

Do the words accuse you so?

I haven't heard them, she's standing outside.

Oh Sire,

Why do you cling so tightly to words?

Please, let us hear hers.

Your title is only as good as your actions."

I have no need for the words of a peasant. 

I have no need for the words of a traitor.

Guards! Arrest them both.

I will have peace in this kingdom with a wiser adviser.

We met by chance,
two strangers who somehow became familiar.
Somewhere along the way,
our conversations became something I looked forward to,
and a friendship grew into something
I wasn't quite sure how to explain.

Then I found pieces of your life
you hadn't shared with me.

And suddenly, I didn't know what to think.
Maybe it's me, pulling back
from something I don't fully understand.
Maybe it's you, growing distant
for reasons I can only guess.

Something feels different now.
The conversations have changed,
and there's a quietness between us
that wasn't there before.

I don't know if it's because
I see things differently now,
or if something has shifted for you, too.

It's strange how someone can become part of your day
without you realizing how much,
until things begin to feel different
and you find yourself wondering why.

I don't know what to call this,
or what it was supposed to be.
I just know that something felt meaningful,
and now I'm left trying to understand
where the warmth went,
what was real,
and whether you feel the distance
the way I do.

I walk through filled up halls

Faces all around

Yet when she walks past

I can't help but to find her face

It looks uncaring

But not a second after

Our eyes will lock

And her face lights up

Her eyes get softer

Her frown gets flipped

And I can't help but to smile

Our eyes stay locked

We pass eachother

And just like that the moment is gone

My friend says a spark is there

But I know better

Cause I am me, and she is Her

I’m your broken.
Which means you can see me a million times through tiny shards of glass but there is more of me to love.
I’m not your perfect, I’m your broken
Which is okay because I’m still put together in a way that hasn’t shattered completely.
I will not cut you, or ask you to hold my broken pieces, instead I ask you to love me as I am.
Im not your perfect. I’m your broken.
I may be broken but I’m not falling apart.
Through the shards of glass I can see your reflection and I can see that you are broken as well. It’s okay to come with imperfections.
We do not come to one another as perfect beings but instead as a culmination of lessons and scars and I am learning how to hold that.
I’m not your perfect, I’m your broken.
I have so much love to give and yet loving you does not mean abandoning myself in order to prove worthiness.
I can show you a love that is tender and kind but I will not break myself in order to do so.
I’m not your perfect, I’m your broken.
If you trust me I will not let you down.
But that does not mean my sole job in life is to prove my own innocence.
There is nothing worse than a man that has decided not to trust because of his past. Now you are actively scanning for events that “prove”I am disloyal, when there aren’t any.
I’m not your perfect, I’m your broken.
My brokenness is a mirror reflecting what is incomplete in you. I’d be scared too if someone actually saw me and chose to love me flaws and all. When we are children and we aren’t loved correctly we grown up into adults that believe imperfection is failure. I know you’re not perfect but I choose to love regardless.
I’m not your perfect, I’m your broken
I am both your curse and your blessing, because I ask you to rise to the occasion of loving yourself and me. We do the same for one another and yet if we cannot change it’ll never work.
I’m not your perfect, I’m not your broken
I’m really not broken at all, but instead cracked. Glue can fix me.
Someone that has imperfections that shes healing.
I’m not your perfect, I’m not your broken
Come heal with me, or choose not to. I’ll be fine no matter what, but will you?? If you stay as you are, in survival mode will you survive?
I’m not your perfect or your broken.

I used to be Bi sexual. I used to be attracted to both genders and now I'm not attracted to anyone. I'm so broken I can't allow anyone to get close to me. Not even in small ways. It feels like expectation and that feels like obligation. I just wanted to be loved. Now? Now I just don't care. I don't want to be known. I don't want to allow anyone anywhere near me. The idea of having sex with anyone feels humiliating. It's like I have power and people think sleeping with me will allow them to take my power. I'm alone all the time. I self isolate and wish to fall asleep and never wake up. I'm so done here. It was all a lie. I'm damaged beyond help and I don't want this anymore.

Crumpled paper

Blinded by my stupidity and arrogance, I was too foolish to see
I traded my happiness for what I thought would set me free

Happiness now feels like a lost friend,
how I wish I could go back and redo the
End

For I have done which cannot be undone
Thought to run would please

So I did what I had to do
Never imagining the pain it’d put you through

I fucked everything up, and I know it’s my fault,
Now I’m trapped in regret, caught in my own thought.

I thought someone new could help me move on
That the pain in my heart would be gone by dawn
But it only made things worse than before
The sorrow in my chest growing more and more

Oh Charlotte, how I miss you more than I can say
Being with you every regular day
If only I had known what I know now
Maybe I would have done things differently some how

Wish I haven’t thrown my life away
Crumpled it up like a paper in my hand
Threw it away without understanding

Maybe some day our paths will cross again
But even if we do and some how make ammends
I can never let it return to the way it began

Like crumpled paper, smoothed out and pressed
Still bears every crease beneath its surface
You can try to fix it, make every fold right
But the marks of the past remain in the light

For what I have has driven me insane.
A heart full of guilt and a world rearranged
I wish I could wake up from this horrible dream
And discover that my life is back to how it used to be

However the past is a page I cannot erase
My regret is that shadow that follows my days
I only hope that I find the light
But that is only a might

And though the years may dull the pain
The creases will forever remain.
For some mistakes can never be undone
And some goodbyes come before we’re ready for one.

So I’ll turn the page, not caring that it tears at my heart
And learn to live with the pieces apart.

Things you know nothing about.
The one that keeps the family together.
The rescuer.
The cook.
The caretaker.
The mother.
Ms independent.
She’ll wipe your tears, kiss your wounds, talk you through a rough day.
She is under constant stress and yet always finds a smile for a stranger.
Her responsibilities are heavy to the point she almost collapses underneath it all.
Still she smiles.
Still she acts as if nothing is wrong.
Still she carry’s that weight because she’s never not carried it.
“I wonder how she’s never broken” but one time she did and quickly learned nobody was coming to save her or even help.
Instead they would tell her what she’s doing wrong, never noticing the things she did right.
Neglecting her efforts.
Putting her down.
Never mind that she’s never asked for help before.
Forgetting the little things she did for them.
Hard on her because it’s not bad enough that she’s even harder on herself.
Sometimes she cries, sometimes is now.
Sometimes she doesn’t know how she’ll pull it off.
Somehow she will because she always does.
She’ll do it alone.
She’ll do it with everyone else watching.
In all reality, she wants someone to help but she can’t “share” the burden because it’s “too much”.
Too heavy.
Too costly.
Too big to fail.
Too much to lose.
Too much to carry.
Like I said… she carries it well.

I miss you more than you could ever imagine
I miss your humour
I miss your kindness
I miss your unconditional love
And even though it seems like it was a cruel
Thing to leave me
It doesn’t feel cruel
It feels like you’re still there
Full of love
It leaves a grief mark permanently embedded inside my weeping heart and soul
Where are you?
Are you okay?
I want to help
Please let me help
Please let me know you’re okay
Please.

I wanna hold on to our life together,

share in it all that I am, and realize how wonderfully fleeting it is.

When I hold her after a tired day, the weight of the world can come between us,

and that frustrates me. I wish in those moments that my love for her didn't betray me.

I know that it's not always supposed to be perfect, but with her, I am rarely content with unreciprocated days, as she is always there for me, always doing her best to comfort me.

She can calm my anger and forgive my stubbornness, as if patience came naturally to her.

Showing me how much she cares for the Love I bring her, while continually never taking her eyes off the man behind my pain.

There is nobody like her, my darling Love. Even if there was, I wouldn't care for the need of anything more than what irreplaceable meaning she brings to my life,

other than more of her, of course. Hehe.

I do occasionally feel worldly temptations like anybody else, but she is quick to fill up my mind in those instances, like a gentle slap to the back of my head. Heh, I can tell she isn't worried about it either.

She trusts me, and I trust her. That is one of the most beautiful things about our relationship,

and how she stills and raises my heart in all the right ways.

I love her little chuckles, too.

I just wish I could always hear her laugh and know when she is smiling.

Know if I'll get to kiss her soon and be lost in those dreamy eyes, talking about whatever nonsense just to keep eye contact.

She might be my heaven, but I do often wish we were there together so we'd never have to be apart.

Just me, her, and eternity.

I ache an ache that can only be described as heartache.

Is this what love does?

When you have a someone there to think about,

your heart aches for them with the loudest shout.

How brave I am, to replace a fantasy with a real person —

the difference between longing and missing,

I know that feeling for certain.

Old days, I used to dream about a someone.

Now I dream about absolutely no one,

for I couldn't possibly dream of how great she would be.

Beyond my wildest thoughts, she is to me.

She expanded my imagination

beyond anything I thought would be my salvation.

It's just hard to describe how I feel inside.

I worry so much about not being by her side.

If it were someone else that handled her anger,

would they do wrong and throw it back at her?

I'd rather it be me, so I know she is safe.

I don't want anyone to ever harm her in any way —

something I never did when I was just dreaming.

It was all just smiles; it never had any meaning.

What would I say to myself back then,

when I was writing about a future girlfriend?

I would say: "Hey, there will come the day

when your hopes come to play,

and a face becomes the place

for what you have chased.

And you won't know at all

how hard you will fall,

when you have to finally risk it all —

to be sometimes uncertain

that you might lose your person,

but still take the leap and stay on your feet,

and always try.

Because she will make living feel like being alive."

i couldn’t get charlie
outta my head.

i couldn’t think
with her in it.

every question about love
somehow became
a question about her.

do i feel too much?

her.

am i better this way?

her.

should the boxes stay open?

her.

fuck.

even when i tried
to understand myself—

there she was.

not because
she put herself there.

i did.

and then things
started changing…

i started wondering
what she thought
before asking myself
what i did.

how she felt
before figuring out
how i felt.

somewhere between
good night
and good morning…

learning to love
became tangled up
with loving her.

and maybe—

that’s a problem.

because if i’m really
trying to understand
who i am now,

i can’t keep using her
as the answer.

or the reason.

or the proof.

charlie made me question
whether feeling
made me weaker.

she made me believe
it made me better.

but maybe neither
gets to answer that.

maybe i need to.

and fuck—

i barely know
this version of me.

i spent years
ignoring him.

then months
discovering him
through her.

maybe it’s time
i meet him alone.

not leave her.

not love her less.

just stop asking
who i am

while looking
through her eyes.

because maybe
i need to learn
something i somehow
skipped entirely.

how to care about myself
without needing someone else
to make me worth caring about.

how to sit quietly
with the boxes open

and not immediately
reach for her.

maybe love isn’t only
about who you let in.

maybe some of it
is finally learning

to stay—

with yourself.

i don’t know.

i’m still figuring
this shit out.

but maybe—

before i can understand
what loving her means,

i should probably learn
what loving me means.

humbly.

quietly.

without looking at her
to see if i’m doing it right.

fuck.

that one hurt.

so…

fuck.

that kinda love.