love

– Anonymous

Poetry

“I knew you were no good for me because when you stood in front of her, your eyes swallowed her smile until you wore one too. I pictured her choking to death on her long hair before I realised she wasn’t the reason I was upset.

A few facts about me since the advent of you: I don’t put peanut butter on both sides of the sandwich anymore and I never leave milk out on the counter because you’re right, it’s gross. I sleep with a cat and a dog in my bed partly because they’re warm and partly because when I wake up screaming, they have no words to ask me what I’ve been seeing. I run every day now but I still have not managed to escape you. Whenever I breathe too deeply I can taste the tobacco of your kisses at the bottom of my lungs. Last night I set seven alarms and slept through all of them on purpose. I am no longer held together by your stitches and it feels like all the limbs that you had your hands on are slowly drifting like continents away from each other so one day I will be lost in space, all in pieces like broken pottery.

I miss you more than I can say.”

– R.M. DRAKE

Poetry

There will be times when we feel like we are meant to be alone, like this love we seek is not real and we created it to make sense of our emptiness. 

And because of that, sometimes some of us become bitter with the idea that love is only the anticipation of finding someone we will never live to meet. 

So we live our lives looking for something to fill us and give us meaning. Only to discover that in the end, love was never meant to be received by one person but rather all the people who made us feel at home. 

– Tyler Ford

Poetry

When you dip her in the middle of the dance floor, it’s the colour of her dress. When she whispers in your ear, it’s the colour of her lips. When you make love, it’s the trace you want her to leave all over your body. When she places her palm over your heart, it’s the colour that comes to the surface as her fingertips trail like a sentence that can never be finished. When you scream at the top of your lungs, it’s the colour that pierces the atmosphere. When she hears you, it’s the colour of her pulse. When you look in her eyes for the last time, it’s the fading colour of your heart falling to your knees. 

It’s not the colour you see when she leaves.

Describing the Colour Red Without Using the Word ‘Red’

– Pablo Neruda

Poetry

I do not love you as if you were the salt-rose, or topaz, or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off. I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul. I love you as the plant that never blooms but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers; thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance, risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body. I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride; so I love you because I know no other way than this; where I does not exist, nor you, so close that your hand on my chest is my hand, so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

Sonnet XVII, come love letter