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Literature Text
I loved a girl – she smelled like August melancholy,
sweeter still,
she carried the scent of festival emotions,
tempered by the midnight flames
and fireflies' glow.
I loved a girl – her hair, the gentle hue of embers,
reflected dancing candlelight,
while in her eyes, as brown as mahogany,
I discovered tiny galaxies,
but most importantly – I saw my smile.
I loved a girl – I sensed her heartbeat,
playing to the rhythm of my breath.
Her every word,
imprinted tender cherry blossoms,
onto my soul.
I loved a girl – her lips tasted like morning air
cool against my heavy forehead,
her skin, softer than satin threads,
played games with the waning moonbeams -
its gravity, I could not resist, like the Sun,
cannot escape the zenith, on Summer solstice.
I loved a girl – she made me happy,
and sadly - I love her still.
sweeter still,
she carried the scent of festival emotions,
tempered by the midnight flames
and fireflies' glow.
I loved a girl – her hair, the gentle hue of embers,
reflected dancing candlelight,
while in her eyes, as brown as mahogany,
I discovered tiny galaxies,
but most importantly – I saw my smile.
I loved a girl – I sensed her heartbeat,
playing to the rhythm of my breath.
Her every word,
imprinted tender cherry blossoms,
onto my soul.
I loved a girl – her lips tasted like morning air
cool against my heavy forehead,
her skin, softer than satin threads,
played games with the waning moonbeams -
its gravity, I could not resist, like the Sun,
cannot escape the zenith, on Summer solstice.
I loved a girl – she made me happy,
and sadly - I love her still.
Literature
sunday girl
i watch you shuffle through the kitchen
and i can feel my fingers softening
and my mind crashing but there are so many
things i want to scream at you, like:
how on earth did you learn to love me
when there are continents forming between my ankles,
when i'm stuck in the middle of a road and there's
a car coming right for me and i just stand and wait,
and how on earth could anyone
have so many freckles between their shoulder blades and
why is it that when you nestle your stupid head into
the spaces between my ribs all i can say is
that your hair smells like September 25th, 2012,
or how your eyes look like pages of an atlas
and that i want
Literature
The Girl Who Was Afraid To Be
She speaks to me fondly
of passions and talents,
of guitars and stars,
with such breathless intensity
then stops short and
apologises
for speaking at all.
All because somewhere in her life,
someone she loved broke her heart
by ignoring
her beautiful words
and telling her to
shut up,
keep it down,
nobody cares.
People aren’t born sad.
We make them that way.
Literature
this is our enlightenment
all articulate ribs &
bone-yellow fingernails,
he says, "xanax-eyed girl,
don't you fall in love with
suffering." gums bleeding
ink that settles cavity-black
on the backs of his teeth,
he says he'll cut out his
tongue & bite bullets just to
wake half-dead in the morning.
he tells you, "this is the way
that writers become saviors."
this is sacrifice, he says,
but this is how we thrive.
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I am really proud with myself with this one, hope you like it too.
© 2014 - 2024 IvanRadev
Comments40
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I don't know why it is, but when I get heartbroken, I purposely look for poems that tells about heartbreak/one sided love and other topics, that are going to make me even more sad.
But I love it.
And I also hate it.
And I also love this poem.
I kinda knew how this poem was going to end, cause it was just like reading my thoughts on a paper, written by someone else, and damn is it written well!
Thank you.
Though it feels a bit strange to say it when I got even more sad after reading this.
But I love it.
And I also hate it.
And I also love this poem.
I kinda knew how this poem was going to end, cause it was just like reading my thoughts on a paper, written by someone else, and damn is it written well!
Thank you.
Though it feels a bit strange to say it when I got even more sad after reading this.