I spent hours in front of the mirror trying to find the right words to all the things I wanted to say to you. Repeating the same sentences over and over again. But whenever I tried to let the words fall, I froze. Then suddenly all at once. And you didn't even understand all the words. I spoke of things you never heard of, and you looked at me with confusion in your sea-green eyes. Wondering what the hell I was even talking about. I spoke of love. But you couldn't understand the gibberish flowing from my mouth quicker than the current, because you didn't know the first thing about love. You had no idea how it felt to have love's body against your bare chest late at night, with nothing but the warmth you shared under your large quilt. You knew nothing about how love smelled. The smell of that new perfume that she bought, the one that reminds you of home, so that you would notice her. Or how love's lips tasted like your favorite meal. The one your momma made you every year for your birthday just for you. Because love's lips were just for you. You didn't even know what love looked like with her wavy brown hair in a beautiful long braid that went mid-way down her back. You couldn't even pick out love's voice in the large crowds because you never listened hard enough to how different her voice was from others. You didn't know who love was because you didn't know who I was.
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Random Storybook
PoesiaHere are a couple of poems I've written based on self harm, pain, sex, love, loss, and inner troubles that I and many others have been through. They're all separate poems and put in randomly but they all give a different feeling.
