Love Poem - Tumblr Posts

he picked up pieces of me

scattered like bread crumbs

and held them close

warmed them up in his palms

and blessings on blessings

they whisper daily

till gloom lifts to shine

till his lips meet mine

- notbrightenoughforthat

Your Bite, I Yearn

I wish you could bite me. As your eyes are colored like the red sea, With your hands present me with a tender caress, With your words drowned in honey as I listen to your voice.

I remember those sharp teeth over the flesh of a virgin. Those were the same set of teeth that showed me a smile where my heart melted in. If I ask, are you a thief in the night? Because I know that when I see you, you would run with my heart and my morality will not be right.

I'm so drawn to you, yet I couldn't see your face. I know I'm not a mirror, but I know my mind would race. My thoughts run wild as you play your games And those games that I witness would make me turn insane.

I hate that you're such a Casanova. I was already aware that your actions will make me feel antisocial. The way you sang – it's like the angels fell down to greet me. Yet it's not just me who greeted back as everyone could see.

Within your heart, they say you're a wonderful person. Person? Creature? It doesn't matter. All I know is that your intentions is what I'm always after. If I stay and watch from afar, would you give me another reason? A reason to love you, cherish you, and care for you. Are we in that season? Just a kiss, if not bite, that's all I ask of you.

Falling for Them.

As their hand reaches out to mine,

I could have sworn Michelangelo

getting jealous.

-

What was I worth to touch a hand like this;

the skin pale as marble and the finger caressing my palm,

tender as they mingle with mine.

-

A picture, Van Gogh could've never see.

A statue, the greeks could never create,

Picasso gasping in reverence, as I feel their skin.

-

A smile, the sun would envy,

a brightness Icarus could never reach,

Aphrodite leaving the throne of the muse.

-

And those eyes.

Medusa would be the one turning to stone,

Sappho, writing endless poems.

-

Their laughter soft as the clouds in the sky,

hearing it,

makes me wanna fly.

-

The waves on the shore creating a melody

which could never compete with their voice.

Gentle, lovingly and so, so warm.

-

The warmth of their arms which hold me safe

in the night of storm,

until we see the beginning of dawn.

-

Hephaestus would burn

if he touched my heart when I'm with them,

Prometheus never reaching the fire to steal again.

-

The love of a masterpiece hundreds of years

still there,

poets and artist, dying to see,

-

but they just look at me.

And they hold on to my hand.

As I'm falling for them.

Или я псих, или не грех

Так любить твой веселый смех

Я хочу с тобой гулять до первого 31-го февраля

Gratitude🖤

❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️

I was elated,

Out of the world

Still grounded,

When the strange familiarity,

Unexpected but still longed for

Allured me -

Once again

When I caught him in you,

Unaware,

Not necessarily him though

Yet again

And I still knew;

Couldn't bridle this feel though

Lingering

Within me

In its entirety,

In the depths of my soul

So dark and never traversed

Holding the roots

Of the tree

Standing all tall

Bearing proudly

The saccharine fruits of

Waiting

Ripening into a blissful longing,

Turning bright red

Protractedly

With deliberation

In anticipation

Of fullness of time

Speculating

His enterprise,

Though not him

Yet grateful to the

Masquerade

or Pasquinade is it,

For accentuating the tree

Standing all tall

Glorious and thriving,

Serene,

No greed,

In the sentient, dark depths of my soul

To be traversed.

❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️

my love isn’t a condition of mine. perhaps, i’m fated to it.

per i’m doomed by the claws of grief / fully knowing ‘finale’ can reach / wind has brought me over your cologne / and drought over memory, i’ll love. when i can only rest my bones within your chest / and yet burn my mouth through your spine / i’ll descant over my love for your emptiness.

my coffee got colder against the words / plain saints tattooed on the hands under my shirt. / miss you so

“Beginning” - B.L.

i don’t remember her face,

or her voice,

or her middle name.

every story we shared retreats from the tip of my tongue back into my uneasy stomach.

yet i remember her:

what id like to count as my first love,

because my loves before i can’t picture at all.

i remember her foster dog,

and her couch,

and the tooth on the right side of her mouth that she was insecure about.

i remember her passively,

she follows me through every day,

yet when i turn to look at her

all i see is an empty sidewalk.

she follows me through my writing,

whenever i talk about her and address it to “you” as if she were the one reading it.

i can’t remember a good half of my life.

my childhood is something i can recall as long as my mom or brother is telling the story.

i remember my dad

through pictures.

i remember my favorite stuffed animal

because he still sits on my bed.

but from my own recollection,

my memories that i don’t need facebook timelines for,

she was the start.

and even though she’s fading,

i’ll always remember

that she was a beginning,

one i still hold on to.

did i know you?

i still think of you

a passing thought in my mind's traffic.

i pay no attention,

"ignore it and it'll go away"

most days, it works.

but some days, in the dead of the night

when the darkness engulfs

both me and my musings,

it does not work.

it does not work and I reach out,

clutching that thought,

clinging to it

the idea of you.

the you I've built in my head.

the you who's soft as the petals of a rose,

comforting like a cup of warm chocolate.

but it isn't real,

it never was.

the real you pricks me

like the thorns of that very rose;

the real you is cold, indifferent.

or maybe,

i don't know you.

my mind deceives me,

there is no black and white,

only a grey haze.

as my fingers hover over your name on my phone,

i pull them back.

maybe I know you, maybe I don't.

maybe I miss you, but it's not enough.

your thorns have pricked me more than once.

so I still think of you,

but I'll never let you know.

trying

they say you’ll know

when someone loves you.

but I love you,

yet you don't know it

i fail to tell you

over and over.

the words are at the tip of my tongue,

threatening to pour out,

but what comes out instead

is venom that scalds your skin.

i swear im trying

my best; this beast

is terrifying. More so

than the thought of you

disappearing. It appears

that im just afraid

to admit it–

to you, to myself.

and I'm hoping,

that your love

will be sustenance enough

for you and me both.

too much

is there such a thing as

too much love?

can you love someone too much?

to the point where it's overflowing.

it grows until there's no more space;

until you can't breathe.

the love,

it consumes you.

it consumes your thoughts,

your time,

your emotions,

your entire being.

it twists and turns,

growing and changing,

until you don't recognize it anymore.

until you don't recognize yourself.

it doesn't matter though,

because you'll love every moment of it.

even the parts you hate

you'll love;

you've got too much of it anyway.

I should have left

when the kisses moved from my lips to my cheeks.

I should have left

when the warm hugs

turned into quick brushes.

I should have left

when a cold shoulder replaced

the one I leaned on.

When a few words

sparked arguments

and hour long silences,

I should have turned my back on you.

But I didn't

And that's my mistake to bear.

You were bitter

so, so bitter,

but your sweet aftertaste

had me coming back for seconds

and more.

I should have left when

my name on your lips stopped sounding like music

and your eyes

no longer held all the stars

in the night sky.

I should have left you

the moment we fell out of love.

you don’t know how much you meant to me.

how the words that left your lips

pierced my heart,

lurking in my head for hours.

how the sweet texts you sent

are locked up in my gallery

after all these months.

i look at them sometimes,

the screenshots taking me back

to a time that may have existed,

to a version of us

that looks perfect

in the haze of nostalgia.

is that a smile or a grimace?

a bittersweet taste on my tongue.

you don’t know how much you meant to me.

that drunken voice note still haunts me.

“i love you”s whispered in the dead of the night.

hours before dawn broke;

days before your heart did too.

i'm not sorry though.

i was sick of us,

sick of running in circles,

of the loop we were stuck in,

of our never-ending endings,

one step forward, two steps back.

you were a habit I couldn’t break,

but it was time to stop.

like a wilted flower clinging to a branch,

it was time to let go.

old habits die hard,

but as the nostalgia fades,

reality slams into me in waves.

and I’m glad I never told you

just how much you meant to me.

i ignore you for months

barely sparing you a glance,

rarely acknowledging your presence.

you've been by my side for years

saying nothing

as i break parts of you,

replacing them soon enough.

And when i fall asleep on your side,

you silently let me.

allowing my fingers

to dance down your neck

playing out melodies;

tunes sung on my command.

and when i scratch at your surface

out of sheer boredom

there is not a single word of protest.

the callouses on my skin

are a small price to pay when

i leave you for months

fascinated by someone new.

you watch soundlessly

as i hold someone else in my arms;

a new temptation this week.

but you know I'll come back

and i know

that when i do,

you'll welcome me with open arms.

This is about my guitar lol

Hate your love

when you said you liked my curls,

i spent hours

straightening them out.

you complimented

the calm blue of my nails,

so i painted them a fiery red.

then the skirts left my knees bare,

unlike the denim that kept them warm

before you said i looked good in jeans.

and the day your fingers tied

the laces of my high tops,

i replaced them with stilettos,

the heels as sharp as my tongue

slipping poison onto yours.

i didn't mind when your hands

grazed the flesh of my cheek;

after all, i craved it.

i wanted your lips chasing mine,

needing to stain them

the shade of my new lipstick,

wanted the pads of your fingers leaving icy trails

down the heat of my skin.

i craved your touch,

but i resented your affection.

with every change i made,

i swore to never be

what you wanted me to.

entangled in my fabrications,

deceived by a false sense of control,

little did i know,

that you had me

exactly where you wanted me.

i couldn't recognize myself anymore

and you loved every part of me.

With lips like roses, your words entwine,

In the garden of love, forever mine.