love and pain, quotes about love and pain, quotes on love and pain, poems on love and pain, love and pain lyrics, pain and love quotes, love is pain and pain is love, pain and love, poems about love, short poems about love, sad poems about love, poems about life and love, poems about love and pain, famous poems about love cute poems about love, english poems about love, poems about love for him, best poems about love long poems about love, poems about love and life ,classic poems about love black poems about love poems about lost love, happy poems about love deep poems about love, poems about love in spanish, poems about why i love you rhyming poems about love, beautiful poems about love. Love doesn't go out like a light or with a bang it passes away as slow as honey drips onto your morning toast love clings to your being just as wet clothes to skin but clothes dry and so will your tears
Love doesn't go out like a light
or with a bang
it passes away
as slow as honey drips
onto your morning toast
love clings to your being
just as wet clothes to skin
but clothes dry
and so will your tears
it comes back in waves
like a flash of scorching heat
that you can’t control
or be rid of
you try to suffocate it
as you would most fires
but you’ll find
the flame won’t go out
not merely because you wish it so
the nights become simpler
and the waves of unbearable heat
grow to be short flashes of subtle warmth
and soon love will be
just a distant pang in the right back corner
of your still-beating heart
one grey day
you will visit the grave
of your affection
and wish for it to be revived
and feel a flutter in
the pit of your stomach
it truly hasn't died
it never truly will...!!!
Poems About Roses.
There is a lot of poetry
About roses and thorns,
and the way a single bead of blood
wells up on your fingertip.
I am surprised by how good it can be.
Sometimes poetry written by young lovers,
trying desperately to fuck each other,
is as raw and clumsy and predictable
as the fucking itself.
I do not think you would like to be called a rose.
Let me just say,
when we kiss-
and allow ourselves to be the sort of people
who write poems about roses and thorns-
the stubble rash is as painful and honest
as the prick of a rose’s thorn...!!!
Its everyone dream that's worth the goal
its something so low in price and yet so valuable with sentimentality,
its appearance is only visual to those who accept its true deeds
its the rock of oath that can be remorsefully split with the slightest thought of opposing commitments ,
it can save the trough of loneliness
it resembles a heaven like rose Garth
its lustful, dangerous integrates
oh how i despise the idea of its luring desires,
if its to be as a weapon it could of most hysterically catastrophic
Love in a million thoughts or so.
How many of the million thoughts per day are about love?
What does that statement even mean?
Like, do I love how my chucks represent me?
I love Justin Beiber. So. Freakin. Much.
Love is such a drag.
Love is such a rush.
It won’t survive among those who are mundane.
To crush is the pursuit from love’s pang.
Follow what’s safe, what you know. No need in getting caught up on love’s bullshit.
Speed through love’s highway.
Love can be a highway to hell.
Love is the highway to heaven.
"Move love across the seas." Life’s love.
Keep your heart protected for love can be deceiving.
I love my mommy, she so cray cray!
"Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends." Love people.
Faith is love.
Love is everything.
"I’m the baby, gotta love me!" Family’s Love.
Love is nothing.
Treating love as if it’s expendable endangers everyone.
"Love and domination are antithetical." Trust’s Love.
Love your worth.
"What up Blood? What up Cuz? It’s all Black. I love us." Community’s Love.
My heart hurts seeing young folks not show love.
Show love to folks who look just like you because not many of them are around.
"Love is like oxygen. You get too much, you get too high. Not enough and you’re gonna die." Health’s Love.
You need love to survive.
So how many thoughts do I have left today...???
I whimper, earnestly,
I think I shouldn't be so excited
about dying all over again in your stretched out hands that you use to help me up.
But your fingertips, they’re too heavy
And once you touch my neck,
Into gazillions of little lights and sparks
And I want you to watch me die,
but I also want to live.
And if it’s not by your side, is living really worth it?
If your palm never crushes my bones,
and I can’t feel your wrinkly hands on my shoulder,
will it ever be enough to live?
And I’m living and letting myself die,
at the same time,
as you step closer and away at the same time too.
It’s strange, because we’re in a compass,
but I never screamed loud enough
because you don’t hear the frequency at which I mutter my sorrows.
and yet I want to die, and want you to look into the glass of my eyes and my bones
but you don’t seem to get hurt when you touch me
It’s like I have curvy thorns growing on me, but you are steady, and you won’t fail
so you reach down again, to the curve of my neck
and you crush my
with your oblivious hands that don’t look at me
don’t you dare lay a fingertip on me anymore.
But yes, do it again,
one more time,
because it hurts,
but I don’t mind, dear,
I never have...!!!