Poetry – Page 5 – apoeticparadox

First Time For Everything

I remember the first time I felt fat and ugly. I was four, standing in front of that mirrored wall, surrounded by dancers that were smaller and prettier than I was. I remember the first time an adult made me uncomfortable by calling me sexy. I was six, wearing my brand new, cheetah print, bikini
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whirlwind romance

The part that kills me Is that I remember that first night When I laid in bed with you I slept soundly, but I felt your presence It was everything I craved It made me so happy I remember that tension that spark between us that we both recognized I remember how badly I ached
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Questions

Will this broken heart ever mend? Will I find my true love in the end? Is there somebody that I can call friend? Is there hope that someone can lend? Or will we keep following this trend? Answers Your broken heart did mend. You found your true love, and it’s yourself. You
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Broken Home

This mess we made is laid out in front of us and I’m itching to pick it up But every time we try to clean the splattered words and piece the shards back together Our blood-stained clumsy hands only smear more hurt and create more damage It seems like our only option is to leave,
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You’re My Favorite Color

I was told to write a poem about my favorite color, but how could I pick just one when your peachy skin, sandy hair, and ocean blue eyes are all my favorite color.
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I Hope You’re Happy

I hope it’s true. All the things you say she’s done for you. Nothing would break my heart more than to find that you chose someone who gives you anything short of everything that I would have given you.
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Fighting Is Our Favorite Pass-Time

I hate when we fight. I hate it. All I want to do is make you happy and I struggle between pushing my feelings aside, or speaking out about them. I hate when we fight. I love you. I cry when you angrily tell me, “Fine, just go do whatever you want. Do whatever makes
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*Written when I was 14*

Pondering – This love is a chance, was I right to take it? Wondering – there is no romance, will I be able to make it? My hope is forlorn, my heart will be torn. There is one great thing that I wish to see and that is my love, right here with me.
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Be Your Own Hero

The world sometimes seems to be crashing down around me. I close my eyes, afraid that if I open them, all will be gone. I impulsively open them, expecting to see darkness alone. My assumptions are true. Wait – out there, far beyond… There’s a light, I see it. I feel a pull, an attraction
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I See You

Your eyes are windows. Through them I can see your soul, and it’s beautiful.
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