love poems
Love poems for hopeless romantics; I'm the poet and you're my muse.
White Walls
In my abnormal psychology class we discuss mental hospitals like a chapter out of a history book. something that doesn’t exist in anyone’s reality. i️ don’t tell them that the waiting rooms smell like an ICU or that it’s best not to tell your therapist when you skip a meal. And i️ don’t tell them about Madison. I️ sit patiently impatient at the front of the hallway as the nurses are too busy with their “nursey” shit to put me in a room. When she walks up to sit beside me she’s wearing an oversized plaid sweatshirt, baggy boyfriend jeans and red keds. she loved oversized clothes, they were an easy way to shelter the beast of Anorexia. I️ say “hi i’m Amirrah, what’s your name?” but it sound like “i know you” she says “i’m madison” but it sounds a lot like “you found me”. you see every morning after that, me and madison, madison and I️, we were joined at the hip or at the everything. sometimes i️ couldn’t tell where she started and i️ ended but i️ didn’t mind. she tells me “i️ thought you were the popular girl i️ couldn’t hang with” but it sounded like “i️ thought you wouldn’t recognize me” i️ said “and i️ thought you were the pretty girl i️ couldn’t associate with” but it sounded a lot like “i️ think i️ lo-“ you see, me and madison, madison and I, we used to play this game called do you love me? although we both knew each other’s answer we played ignorant. she told me “when you look at somebody you love, your pupils get big or something” and it sounded like “look at me...please” little did she know, that’s all i did was look at her. the way she would flinch when someone reaches for a hug because she hadn’t learned how to unspell “rape” yet. how she buttoned her flannels up to the third to last button because although anorexia has to stay in the closet, sexuality didn’t. how she ate less than half her food but mixed it around to make her plate look empty. how the scars on her arms look exactly like mine as if she was my voodoo doll, or i️ was hers, or there is no difference between the two. how she used sex as an escape from her own reality, just like me or like her or like us? I️ can’t begin to explain how it feels to have someone bring you that piece of yourself that you’ve been looking for in all the wrong places. how it feels to touch a dream. how it feels to be understood. not in a surface level “oh she’s just upset right now” way but a “hey, excuse me you dropped your soul a little ways back. i️ picked it up for you. it didn’t look like anyone else could tell it fell” kind of way. We gave each other nicknames. I was Vivian and she was Deborah. we were two women who were healthy and who didn’t live behind four white walls. we were two women who could love and it sound like love. On my checkout day, me and Madison ate lunch together. well as much as 2 anorexics could eat. we both stared at our plates as if they would give us a way to put more hours in a day. I️ walk up to Madison in her doorway and hug her so damn tight that im almost positive my collarbone still remembers the shape of her chin. she whispers “bye vivian” she looks at me with those aqua blue oceans, pupils spreading into gardens of forbidden fruit, and they sound like “i️ love you” as i️ stare back at her or me or us, my eyes tell the same story. as i️ walk out the door i️ look back and she says “don’t you come back here Amirrah, we were never supposed to be here” it sounded a lot like “i’m in love with you, it was never supposed to be like this, but i’m in love with you.” I said “i know Mae, i know” it sounded just like “i’m in love with you too. right here, right now.” maybe we would have said it out loud if it weren’t for the anorexia or depression or those white walls. or maybe vivian and deborah were the only ones who knew.
Amirrah MajeedPublished 6 years ago in PoetsMaybe We Weren't Meant to Be
A Silent Cry As you spit me out and cut me open all I feel is the satisfaction of you touching the inner nothingness of my soul
Gabriela VegaPublished 6 years ago in PoetsLessons Learned
I feel empty I feel sad I feel anger I feel regret I feel hatred towards myself I feel devastated I feel unworthy I feel broken I feel undeserving of your love,
KayCee LovePublished 6 years ago in PoetsVows
When I look into your eyes, I see peace They’re the color of Tenerife Sea My heart goes crazy with a deadly beat I am so lucky having you here with me
Ariel AlonsoPublished 6 years ago in PoetsYou
Your eyes are so alive, your voice is rendering. You calm the storm inside and the waves that crashed into me I've known it all along, the truth that they hide. But I still wonder what sparks the fire that keeps you on the rise.
R.K. JamesPublished 6 years ago in PoetsLove Is...
Love is..... Love is an option choosing that one person or more people you love Love is not size or a measurement Love is a broken scale
Gladys W. MuturiPublished 6 years ago in PoetsI Hate My Writing
As exciting and cool as it may seem I can't trade in words to redeem the things that make me happy nor could I sell the intellectual phantom of emotions that lay resurrected with death upon request.
F.A.KarriemPublished 6 years ago in PoetsMental Petals
Flowers bloom but they can't consume the fragrance you give off Ready to set off the sprinklers for you're hot like a forest fire typhoon
F.A.KarriemPublished 6 years ago in PoetsSpace
You talk about how you want love And I usually want to hear it You talk about how you had it Then continue on and on about your dearest
Ecarg NosivePublished 6 years ago in PoetsNatural Disaster
I’m a natural disasterBaby, I can break open your windowsYou won’t let me inside, I want to see you cryYou give me many emotions, and I’ll never lie
Prism
For a moment, I didn't breathe Your blood...my blood, fevered me I was trapped Spellbound + wound Addicted Suspended in air, without your care
Melanie BurkePublished 6 years ago in PoetsDo Not Dim Your Light
You allowed him in, but the way in which you did, you gave him all the power to your happiness. You entrusted the most precious thing you own with a person you were unsure you could rely on.
Danai ValeriePublished 6 years ago in Poets