I am a very emotional person. I like to pretend I feel nothing; I pretend I have no soul and I am but a shell on this cruel world, but in reality I am a ridiculously sensitive person who cries at least three times a week and is affected by any little thing that is ever said or done to me.

With that being said, here are some nonsensical love poems that I wrote in the past and am writing at the moment. Some were during a relationship or during a period of intense like for someone and others were when I had nobody in my life but I had just heard “I’d Rather Be Blind” by Etta James and I felt the loss of a love I hadn’t met yet (do you see how over-the-top I am.)

There are quite a few poems in this piece so I figure I’d split them up and you can come back to them later, or if you are feeling brave, dear reader, then go ahead and put on a sad piano playlist and carry on till the end. Please enjoy!

He kept giving me kisses everywhere. My hair, my forehead, my cheeks, my neck. His lips went everywhere around me, bringing me closer to him, physically and mentally. I didn’t even care, I didn’t even like him, but being close to someone, having someone want to kiss you gives you warmth. Even if it’s not true warmth, it’s a warmth I can pretend is with another. I wanted it to be you searching every part of my face for a new place to touch. I wanted it to be you brushing my hair back and away to see my face clearer. Looking into each other’s eyes and feeling like the world is ours. How we didn’t want to walk away. How he didn’t want to let go. I wanted you to say that to me. I wanted you to hold me like he held me last night. I wanted your lips on mine, I wanted your warmth. I wanted all of this with you, and only you. So why haven’t you called?

I always feel sad after I leave you,

Actually I feel sad during too and I try not to cry

When you tell me to leave,

Or when you say, “when this is over, can we be friends with benefits.”

I’m not sad about that, although I am, it’s deeper than that.

I’m sad because it will be over.

I’m sad because one day I’ll leave and I won’t be back in your arms.

I’m sad because you tell me you have feelings but you can’t express them.

And I understand, I understand a thousand times but I can’t help but feel so strong.

I feel so deeply for you and I’m sad.

I’m scared and hurt and I feel like you’re already leaving me.

Because you are.

Everyday we draw nearer to this end.

Everyday I feel sad and impossibly happy and terribly sad.

What will I do when it’s time to part.

In a month, in a year, maybe tomorrow will be the day this ends.

Only then will I be sad, but free, and then impossibly sad.

I already miss you.

Goodbye.

My mind fixates on the last words you sent me.

“I really like someone.”

Why do I feel so weak?

I can’t move my arms or legs.

My cheeks blush a bright pink and my blood pumps faster throughout my body.

“Should I tell you who?”

Oh god I’ll never recover. I’ll never be the same and fuck I don’t want to be. I want us to look at each other and see the world as I’ve seen it through you. I want to know who it is that has stolen your interest as you’ve captivated mine. I’m ready to know, even though I might die right this second. I need to know.

“I’ve liked _____ since forever.”

I stare at my screen. There’s a smile on my face that’s not mine. Everything is so quiet now and yet moments ago my mind was screaming. My sunken eyes feel so heavy, I blink and notice I’ve started crying.

I knew it wouldn’t be me.

I knew it couldn’t be me.

I knew I would never be the same after I knew, and Jesus I didn’t want to be.

My eyes are tired, my body is exhausted.

My heart is trying to keep me alive but dammit it burns.

I knew it would hurt.

I didn’t know it would kill me.

I’ve never been so filled with hope, knowing that it would still crush me the second you turned away.

I hate being hopeful, I hate how naive I was for even this split second you paid me any attention.

I hate that every time your name pops up anywhere or you stride towards me with a smile, I think maybe you’re going to tell me what I dream of hearing, what I hope to hear. What I constantly think every damn minute of every damn day.

I hate how much I wanted you to like me…

I hate that I can’t help but be disappointed it’s not me.

And I hate that I really thought it could be.

I hate the word hate yet I can’t stop using it, my mind has tainted itself with your image and theirs.

It’s not your fault. I fell madly, deeply, wrongly.

And here’s to you and your new lover, here’s to not breathing anymore as I choke back a broken smile after you’ve turned away from me forever.

It is amusing,

How even with experience

Even knowing the outcome.

Knowing how horrible my life is,

How horrible you make me feel.

I still,

Fuck, I still choose you.

And she was like a vacation.

The feeling of waking up early on your own.

The sky still dark and the sun beginning to say hello.

The air still fresh and the grass glossed over.

She was like the first smile of the day.

The first genuine laugh to escape your lips.

The first sweet taste of food in an empty stomach.

She was a break in a full schedule.

The day settling in and the sky fully cleared.

An overwhelming heat wave, the sun that burns the back of your head, with a light breeze just to keep you from suffocating.

She was the feeling of not having any immediate responsibilities, not having to constantly think of the future, just the day ahead.

She was like a quiet afternoon with only the clinking of ice in a tall chilled glass.

She was the day saying goodbye.

She was the setting sun and the fireflies that come after.

She was a clear full moon with passing clouds in a black satin sky.

Stars only served as a background to bring her more attention.

She was the moment you begin to drift away into a dream.

She was a memory to remember.

And now like a memory, and now like a dream, she’ll begin to fade.

And I miss my vacation.

You, I maybe love you, no I guess I do.

Maybe a little in the way I shouldn’t, definitely a lot in the way I should.

I adore you and everything about you.

From your terrible sleeping habits to the way your cheap shampoo makes your hair smell like sweet flowers.

I look at you and want to kiss you just because you deserve to be kissed, because you’re so wonderful.

How could anyone spend all this time with you and not want to kiss you?

You probably saw my pursed lips

Set in motion like I was mid sentence

Because they were–

I’ve been telling myself to get over you, to move the fuck on.

To stop looking at you, stop looking for you, stop, just stop.

But if I stop, I won’t have anything, my mind–blank.

I don’t doubt your mind is full of color, full of songs and booze.

And I can’t help laughing at the open space, where everything hangs, now in silence.

And I keep mouthing the words to my reflection,

Get over him, get over him, get over him.

Blank.

We couldn’t fall asleep.

We felt uneasy, I felt like I shouldn’t have come.

But my arms ached to touch you, they trembled and burned to wrap themselves around you.

I didn’t, I wanted to write poetry but you turned the lights off.

I didn’t know if I should leave or not but you said ‘don’t’

And then you held my hand.

And I held you back.

We fell asleep.

It was like an old memory, like we had been this way all our lives.

Touch, touch, always touching.

Face, ears, necks, any excuse to feel more of you.

It was a hesitant transition to a more specific touch, one we hadn’t tried before, one we had to test.

You started with my shoulder, a brief moment in the air before wrapping your arm around my waist.

And our bodies were made to fit together.

My waist, I’d gladly give it to you to touch.

I only ever wait for you to wrap your arm around me so I can feel at home again.

Being touched by you is like flying, you and me,

I wonder if you feel the high too.

And you brush my hair back, resting your head on my shoulder, moving in so close without actual contact.

I don’t know if I should let you move in or kiss you myself.

It’s funny, just the other day I wrote about your touch. I could reference it now, how it was familiar, like our bodies were meant to fit together.

I felt like I was flying and I wondered if you did too.

I guess now I know I’m disposable.

My skin felt eager for your closeness, I always waited for your touch.

At night when it was just us, and our hands were free I thought we were the last people alive to have this feeling of warmth.

Now it burns.

It burns so bad I would shed my skin to forget your stupid hands.

Your wandering fingers can touch her body.

Your long arms can wrap around hers.

Your smile can glow for her face.

I don’t have a choice anymore. I’ve lost.

I’m not mad at her since she’s the one I told about flying.

So I’ll continue to sit here, smiling, as I look at both of you, you were made for each other.

How funny.

You know you never apologized.

And I made mistakes, god I know I did, and I apologized.

I must have said I’m sorry about twenty times, in one night alone.

And you, you haven’t said it once.

And I let you get away with that.

Maybe you don’t feel you need to, maybe you feel you don’t want to.

But I’ll say it one more time.

I’m sorry.

I am sincerely sorry.

God, I am so sorry you are such an ass.

Maybe I don’t love you,

I love what your hand do to my body though.

My body loves you, wants you,

My lips love yours,

Wants to feel them constantly.

Constantly wanting you.

I’ve never been in love.