Tag: romantic poet

Love poem: Miss Dior (your perfume)

distantcaveLeave a comment

Arachnids are crawling all over me.
They’re starting to really itch my knees
But, honey, the way you throw your head back
When you laugh
At the way I dance
To these songs that I’m showing you right now, in this light,
You are sunshine,
Pure sunshine.

I’ll learn how to pick a lock just for you
If that’s seriously what you want me to do
I’ll find an online manual,
I don’t even care where
I’m afraid of the things I would do for you
But I keep it very composed, calm and close
And the way you look with your mauve lip gloss
Sunshine
Bright lights
Yellow dahlias
So mine

You look way too beautiful to be sleeping in a bed
That’s
Lying flat on the floor
I mean,
I’m pretty sure
I hate when I find songs that make me perfectly think of you,
I end up playing them into the night.

I don’t even know what this fragrance is
But, oh my, am I all over you
There is rosewater flowing out of the tap
And a white pickup truck in my driveway
Oh my, what am I to do?
Oh my, what am I to do with you?
So fragrant, so lush
Like fruit
How soon can I marry you?

I had a surprisingly good dream for once.
Seems like the night terrors are temporarily at bay
All it was was that I was having a conversation with someone who was looking straight at me and
Laughing
In the loveliest of ways.
He just wanted to hear what I had to say next
Somehow I felt so comfortable sitting there in my seat
I kept making jokes
I kept stumbling over my words
What’s new there?
But I was so happy, for once, I think
And I woke up, and I told my mother that I had had such a splendid dream
But it was only a simple conversation.
The kind that the normal people have seen.

I have
On repeat
Every day,
Like a habit
Muted faces
Mutilation
Picket fences
Fresh paint
Every day
Like a perfect habit
Dirty pickup truck
That I wash every Saturday
And I see the plane flying
And I don’t wanna be on it
Because I’m comfortable being right here
Because of your perfume

Intoxicating
Trembling
Can’t quite describe
The ending
All that I
Remember
Is the smell of
Your
Perfume

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Love poem: Passenger door // grocery store

distantcaveLeave a comment

Love poem: Passenger door // grocery store

Fresh lint from the dryer
My niece is crying
Because a boy pulled a baby-pink ribbon straight from her hair
& I told her, don’t worry
He didn’t take anything real from you
The most genuine things are
More intangible than they seem

So now I’m at the laundromat
Watching my lavender and velvet blanket dry
Something too delicate of material to end up in this white, vacant space
But I have already been charged
For a thousand liar’s crimes
Not my own, but it’s easy to take the blame
When the minds of the reckoners aren’t something you can change

Love poem: Passenger door // grocery store [continued]

I used to dream about being held
By someone so powerful
That they could both start and end bar fights for me
Think I was in my early twenties
So my wildest visions
Would make little sense to someone truly thinking of settling down
You have to act your age
In this kind of upscale town

Then you handed me a receipt
Me, counting your naturally full lashes
How strong they must be and if only
Mine were too
To resist my pulling them out
When I both do and don’t have free time
Which my mother would say is a crime
But laugh with me thereafter
Because true love doesn’t see you in black or in white
Genuine love both does and does not fight

Love poem: Passenger door // grocery store [continued]

Your voice was alarming
Because it began softening
Every tense fibre locked and chained to itself within my body
I warm my shivering shoulders with how hotly
My breath is on evenings
Like this one, in which I could not care less about who or what surrounds you and me
They are just bodies
And you are warm nectar
That only the most tender of creatures know how to find

I showed up on time
Your shift is almost over
But I am too shy
So, I take my bags
Spill a few things, say it’s alright
“You don’t have to help me”
(Oh man, but I want you to)
Pretend I have plans when you ask what I’m doing
(I am such a poor liar,
the truth practically stained on my teeth)

I want you to go sit in the driver’s seat
Open the passenger door for me

Come home and help me with the groceries

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Poem: Baddd girlfrienddd

distantcaveLeave a comment

Poem: Baddd girlfrienddd

I want him to love me for my bad reputation
Lilacs and daisies,
And we don’t even have to have those kinds of conversations.
Like who do you think you are all the time misbehaving?
But I’m just a little doll in a lace dress,
Can’t you see how much joy I’ve been faking?

My garden is so pretty
My kitchen is pristine
New tiles on the bathroom floor to feel Victorian,
And I know that my cursive is quite Gregorian.
You vomit all over my love letters because it’s too much for you.
And maybe that’s why we’re not so–

Made for each other,
Perfect synchronous lovers.
I’m embarrassed to say
I think about it every day.
Do you think you want more from me?
I’m already overflowing- a coffee cup that forms bubbles and bleeds
I want you to buy me flowers most of all
And I worry this is the only thing I ever think about
And do I worry that I’m not enough for you?

Poem: Baddd girlfrienddd (continued)

All the opposite,
Your grey hairs in such ethereal hues
I think I’m way too much for you.
A silver plate and French dessert, picking off the residue,
I swear, in another lifetime,
I was also deeply in love with you

But I am a crazy girl,
I am truly wild.
Everywhere that I go, they collect some kind of files
They say the weirdest things about me, and it’s never made sense.
I wanted to be the most trustworthy person,
But I’m not very good at making friends.

And this makes me sad.
And I want you to help me not feel bad.
But if that’s too much for you,
Then that makes my suspicions true.

Poem: Baddd girlfrienddd (continued)

I am so used to being too much,
But never enough
Never enough.
I am so used to being far too much,
But never enough
Never enough.

My hair is gently tied with a beautiful pink ribbon
He thinks that I did things that I didn’t.
I’ve always wanted to be someone that people could trust
But if I cleaned a window,
He would still just see arachnids and dust

And that was a bad line; I’m not a very good poet. It’s one of my insecurities,
Though I hope I don’t show it.
But this is a mess,
The fabric between our asymmetrical beds.
I don’t even know where I feel the best laying my head.
I have duvet covers in different area codes and these apartments that don’t even belong to me
But I wanna belong to somebody
And I want them to take care of me.
And I want them to not be so scared of me.

Poem: Baddd girlfrienddd (continued)

So now I’m crying on the freeway, writing this using voice-to-text
And I think I’m beautiful, but well aware that he’ll forget
And I wanna be taken care of properly, like my dad would admire
And I want to be given flowers, like my mother would appreciate

But I am the common denominator,
The problem at hand.
And I just want somebody who can understand
That I wanna be trustworthy to the point where you believe I didn’t do it
So, if I set this place on fire,
Are you gonna give me a hard time about it?
Or try your best to see me get through it

Poem: Baddd girlfrienddd (continued)

Watch me
Dancing
Laughing
Crying
Soaking
Rainfall
Open
Windshield
Broken
I fell in love with you three times
I sat and sobbed in the shower, thirty-nine

Or are you going to laugh with me?
Because it is inherently funny
That we carved this life together

I’m aware I appear as a rotten tomato that ruins the rest of the vine,
But someday someone will trust that I’m good on the inside

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Poem: Wedding dress

distantcaveLeave a comment

Welcome to my poetry website! Pink poems are love poems & blue poems are more general “life” poems. Each poem is interrupted by photographs and ends when you’ve reached the Soundcloud portion. The previous subscribe application was not working, so I’ll be testing new ones out soon. x

Poem: Wedding dress

Venom under relapse
I had nothing more to say when you turned away
I like it here in my baby pink clandestine cave
Nothing to eat me away, sharp fumes
Fiber optics, flesh under a microscope
Baby voices & sketches of solid diameter

Box hair-dye doesn’t quite get the colour right
But God knows I keep on trying
I don’t often think about it, but I’m so afraid I won’t get what I want
That might be what’s best, after all
If an admissions team reads my name right
That might be the very first time
That might be what’s best, after all

A long Victorian sundress for sitting by the pool
I think it’s meant to be this way that I often feel misunderstood
I no longer try to say the right things
But then, I find I’m not saying anything
At all
At all
To anyone at all

I remember when I found those pretty songs
That I’d listen to along my drive to and back from university
Had this feeling like something was going on
So I wrapped myself up in the most beautiful love songs
Taking me to a
Place
I didn’t occupy
No, not that night
For that long drive
Wrapped up tight
White crystals shredded into fine crisps
Daisies in my long blonde hair

In another life, you could call me up, tell me you’re happy for me too
Like I am happy for you
Relieved for you
Green dress, she wore a green dress
Had the ceremony of her dreams

Fairy tale, matchmaker – let go of you so you could find your way to her
In another life, I’ll evade this charcoal castle
Won’t ride a horse because I care for animals of all kinds
Won’t check the mailbox, I know no one would write
I’m ink that bleeds through
Covers your wrists like a car’s headlights
Sews your eyes shut so that you could sleep
Comfortably, finally, elusively

I know what’s appropriate
That is- me, driving to the prettiest love songs
If the admissions team doesn’t pronounce my name right
That’s perfectly fine

You belong where you belong, in the end
Hate every single second
They’ll miss you so much back home

Wishing to see snow
Wishing to see snow
Wishing to see snow
Wishing to see snow

Wrapped up tight
White crystals shredded into fine crisps
Daisies in my long blonde hair

Had the ceremony of her dreams
On white amphetamines

A love poem about finding out a former boyfriend got married.

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Love poem for him: earthquake

distantcaveLeave a comment

Love poem for him: earthquake

You know I stopped myself before I could love you
But
We broke apart
And I can’t help but stare
At your blank, sad face
And the only thing sad about it
Is that you’re not afraid to let me go
You’re not afraid to let

I tried to wake up
But I’m always on the wrong side of the bed
We never got to have that night in the hotel
We never got to have that heavenly first dance
The first and the last pages don’t make me too sad
It’s the way the world turns
Your fingers latched on
Not very tight
Like a blouse that’s unloosened
A foggy memory that never becomes clear

I’m trying to relive the skyscrapers and unraveling chaos
Though all that comes to mind in abstract vision and delusion,
Is you screaming in my direction
Telling me to stop
Telling me to stop
Telling me to stop

What makes you so afraid
To show love to an unloved person
The way you play guitar
It makes me so sad
It makes me so sad
Not for anything do you feel bad
Like grey, fallen embers on a cold winter night
Even though you’d say you’d never
Be there for me
Your sovereignty
Your power

And I remember you
Telling me to stop
Telling me to stop
Telling me to
Telling me to stop

Feeling the things that only I do
The distance that separates me from jagged, carbon you
In ocean waves, we grasp at what feels familiar
What’s underneath us will quench our thirst
Yours, preferably
Mine, isn’t regarded
Unless it’s four in the afternoon & the sun is piercing your nerves
Telling you that these antics are your last fatal curse
I’m far removed
To tell you the truth
I do only the things the boldest among us do

I don’t wait until there’s nothing left to take
In the distance between your brown eyes
And these soft, fallen embers of Victorian blue
Crawl back
Crawl back
Panic attack
Mesh and in pieces
Forgive me for grieving

All ends in love, and love has its reasons
Come find me
Come find me
Come find me
Come find me

It’s so unnerving
Like an earthquake on purpose
It’s so delectable
Like you’ve lost your ability to reason

I’m always portrayed as the one who leaves the throne
Gown is disheveled, porcelain skin intact
Like an earthquake on purpose
Telling me to stop

Feeling the things that only I do
What has become of rage has given its way to you

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