I love me some me.
I am not being vain.
I am acknowledging a truth, I di-d not know.
A truth I could not see.
But truth nonetheless.
I loooo’-ve me some me.
When I discovered who I could be.
I act-u-ally fell more in love with myself.
A vessel, you say?
O'tay!
A jar, you proclaim!
A promise, you whisper.
A proclamation you delivered.
To give of this, the val-u-e o of the exchange must be an equ-i-tably measure
Because I ab-so-lute-ly pos-itive-ly love me some me.
And it is my hope you love you, some you.
Otherwise, you have missed the clue 👁️🗨️.
And I bid you adieu.
About the Creator
EYHCS
Poet by birth. Writer by craft. Artist by nature. I write poems, prose, short stories, fiction, and realism works of art dissecting the human condition and the resilience of the human mind. Many of my pieces are metaphoric stanzas.
Two Wrinkles In Time
It is pointless to run, my darling, because sixty seconds ago, I will kill you. My blade will have sliced reality open right in front of you. It will have first pierced it as it would a bed sheet left hanging to dry, flapping in the wind on a Sunday afternoon. But the metal will have drawn a line in the air that the ghostly tear will have followed. Then I, La Dyablès, machete firmly in hand, will have emerged from what your mind, at the time, could only interpret as the other side of here—whatever that means to you. I know. I have seen that look on the faces of countless unlucky… clients. You will not have been the first nor the last to try and reneg on a riches for soul contract only to present this visage to me when I come to collect.
By Lily Séjor4 days ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
This was a great poem!! Self-love is so important :)