Tag Archives: poems

To be free of me

What emptiness the end of love brings,

After the pain, although it was much less than expected,

The hours upon hours of leisure thinking when all the love is done,

There is no thinking of him, there is no missing him, there is no him,

Try as I may to think of him I cannot,

I cannot any more than to think I am not thinking of him,

Nothing more.

Nothing more to do, nothing more to miss, nothing more to suffer,

I am not with him, nor waiting to be with him, nor have I just been with him,

There is no more him,

Now whole days are open to me, what to do with my time?

I have no need to wait for his text, there will be none,

I am liberated from the wait and it is surpringsly pleasant,

I do love him and I am free of him,

A prison I created with my love for him,

I created it and closed myself in it,

A prision? Yes, but I was willing,

Willing, not now. 

I don’t feel the loss, maybe layer,

Later I will cry or throw myself of a cliff,

Although there are no cliffs here,

What to do until then?

Until the emptiness kills me,

While I live my life in the pleasant emptiness of his absence?

To love him and  . . . Be in happiness without him,

Seems a betrayal,

To him most of all,

To love him and not to miss him,

To love him and not want him,

To love him and be free of him,

To love him and let him be free of me.

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What is love

What is . . .

  • Love is a 90’s song by Haddaway
  • Love is the number of imperfections we are blind to in our sentimental partners
  • Love is the pain I feel when I remember you don’t love me
  • Love is to give all the shrimps on your plate to your little brother even though they are your favorite
  • Love is to cry alone at night and laugh like a crazy person in your car
  • Love is picking up the phone at all times, at any time
  • Love is . . .

Change

Around and around in my own head I go.

Wandering of wanderings.

Sometimes I see it so clearly, it’s so obvious.

Sometimes I clearly see I don’t see it.

What is it about him? What is it about me?

What is is it in this world?

Confusion and pain, in this I live.

In peace and death I wish to be.

In tears I drown, yet none I allow.

Because I know to not, not believe, yet endure.

Endure the reality of  . . . I don’t know what. I only know what not.

What is not, what it won’t. Be.

Be. It’s all I am. I am me.

I am me and I wander and I wonder and I ask.

No answer.

Never. No. Not. Always.

Always the same that it is not.

I know. I know. I even know why. But nothing will change.

I will change.

I need to change.

Dear you

Dear you in the darkness, dear you at the razors edge, dear you with the dying heart.

Hear me and head me, or maybe not. In calmness and stillness I draw the blood myself.

The blood that drips and drops and slithers through me and over me. Red, slippery, coppery.

Life so small, so bright so red . . . My heart beat taking me away.

I feel the death, I feel the sting, I feel the fear.

Blinding.

Blinding in the light, and darknes. I sit very still, waiting to die. But I don’t.

Dear darkmes, I can not feel your hand in my throat. Gasping for air as you tighten your grip.

I want the pain, I want the blood, I want the warmth of your self inside me.

Drip, drip, drip . . . Red and red and black mad sharp. How sharp? So sharp I won’t feel a thing.

But I will feel it. I am numb.

I slide the razor through my arm, a thin red line. A thin. Red line.

The pulse slowly, slowly and then. Them the warmth of death and Dear You, my darkness. My darkness with your tongue between my legs.

 

I die

I die a little when you are mean to me, because I love you.
I die a little when you don’t ask me out to concerts, because I love you.
I die a little when you don’t answer my texts right away, because I love you.
I die a little when you are silent to my questions, because I love you.

I understand why you are mean to me, because I love you.
I know why don’t ask me out to concerts, because I love you.
I know you don’t have to answer my texts right away, because I love you.
I respect your silence, because I love you.

Because I love you,
Because I love you,
Because I love you,
And you don’t love me.