'hate' 'love' 'heartbreak'
Learn more about other poetry terms
I hate When people talk about “love.” Can you call high school romance “love?”Either way, I hate when people talk about it. People assume I want someone
I wish it didn't happen I wish it didn't happen Yet it did It's a weird thing isn't it, How you can wish for something to happen but at the sametime don't
I waited up for for you. No answer But it's cool. I needed you. To show me you were here show me that you care Show me that everyone gets busy sometimes so there's no reason for me to start
Dear person I haven’t forgiven, (My father’s Mother)
I dwell in possibility- A place where- Validation comes easily- Because I no longer flourish in it- Where my blankets don’t disgust me- Because they’re not laced with whispers of your love-
Dear Love, Hate, Me, and You. I Hate the way you’re always right. And I hate the way you look at me.
Our voices sore from screaming Our bodies ache from fights You pull me close and whisper It's all because i love you.
My name is Noor. When I was 5 years old, I asked my mother: What does my name mean? Her answer was the same as God's answer when a 5 year old Lucifer asked Him "What does my name mean?"
Heaviness filled my heart as each day goes by.The thought of you gives me an electric chargeI wish for it to be divine but yet it hurts like hellThen I keep wondering wasn't it suppose to be magicalAs we do watch it in the movies?But the only chem
you say you love me say you love to fuck me but I alway end up in the water I can't swim Izaya I love you but you can't see the bigger picture it hard being gay for a person who alway bitter
She fell from my arms into the burnt rose bush. Ashen peddles covered most of her in clouds. As she lay the charm I knew dims. The spark of life left her eyes. All that remained was a dull blue gaze into the sun.
Cinderella danced with glee for only she could see, she was getting married. Dancing in her velvet dress, she was rather impressed, to see her husband soon.
Maybe I'd be better off without oneIt wouldn't be able to breakand I wouldn't be unhappyYou wouldn't be able to hurt meand your words would mean nothing to me.Your actions would wash over me;
Flowers in the fall Is like young love, at first they are crisp and luminous Then slowly the flowers become brittle insecure of itself
Let me speak the truth of this heart, That no one wants, To see, touch, or feel its true intentions, Of not lust that fulfills most sapiens,
Love me please. No, never mind you already ran away. 'Poor desperate freak,' those are the words that run through your mind. Yes, yes poor me,
You and I we´re made of broken glass broken dreams broken hope bitter dust burnt to ashes stuck in a timelapse of what we could have been could´ve done should´ve said