I’m not brokenhearted
but I once was and
I want to always remember and
I want to always hold a piece of it
somewhere within me
so I will always feel
for the brokenhearted
Tag: Poetry
Heart
I don’t want to make you flutter
in false hope anymore.
I don’t want to make you ache
after yet another failed attempt at love
But trust and be still my heart,
I long just as badly as you do
to find another to love like we do.
Chances
I told you over and over
That once I leave
I’d never come back.
You didn’t believe me
But why would you?
I still gave you so many
chances to make it right.
Sucks that when you finally did
I was no longer in sight.
Stop
Stop falling apart
for people who will
never love you enough
to put you back together.
If
If we aren’t best friends what’s the point?
If I can’t hold all of your secrets, who will?
If I can’t tell you when you’re wrong,
how will we grow together in this thing?
If you don’t see the value I can add to your life,
why still hold on to such a liability?
If I’m not the first person you call when in need,
how could I ever be your lifeline?
If our life experiences aren’t synonymous,
why does that have to mean we can’t relate?
If I don’t impact your thoughts & decisions now,
what future is there between us?
If I am none of these things to you,
why are we even still a “we”?
Magical
On those nights when
My thoughts run untamed
And sleep betrays me
I count your breathes
As you lay soundly beside me.
It’s almost magical the way
Your rhythm eases me.
Moonlight Conversations: Obsessed
I think I’m officially obsessed with the moon. I’ve been anxiously waiting to witness his fullness since our last rendezvous. Constantly gazing up at the sky nightly. Perhaps it’s because my mind is completely free! No worries about anything or anyone. So as of late, I can’t help but notice and admire just the little things like the moon and stars. I can recall the places I’ve been each time I paused to look for him. He was merely a crescent when I was on a late night trek to my love just a few weeks ago and tonight as I drove home I was so excited to see him, all of him, once more. Hi, Mr. Moon!
“Was there always this much night? And didn’t the moon use to flirt with me from time to time? How do I cross this divide and will I ever know where you’re hiding? I am reaching with my fingers stretched.” –Tyler Knott Gregson
