#Hate/Love
I don't let me be thrown away.
There's this pain every time I see you.
This love every time you smile.
There's this hate every time
You're touching her.
And this love,
Every time I remember us both.
Romantic poems
Romantic poems — a collection of the best works on PoemShip.
#Yearn for your love
Listening to your voice
Every single time
I hear it.
Looking in your eyes
Every time
They're close.
Trying to forget
That you will never feel it.
Wishing you would love me
Like no one else.
#What's love
It's love when you enter the room.
It's love when I look at you.
It's love when I hear your voice.
It's love when I touch your skin.
It's love
When I feel you
And don't know that I have ever been.
#Right or wrong?
Love you.
Hate you.
Stay.
Leave.
Yearn for you.
Forget you.
Right or wrong?
I don't know what to do.
To hate or to love you.
#Heart to head
My heart says I'm right
My head says I'm wrong.
My heart yearns for you.
My head yearns for you being gone.
My heart likes to stay.
My head likes to leave.
Decided to forget you:
My head's free, my heart can't breathe.
#Meaning?
Looking up.
Right into your eyes.
Seeing your smile.
At once butterflies.
Smiling back.
Then turn away.
Does this mean anything?
That you're looking outside.
And try to hide your grin?
Because I do it too.
But I'm the one,
Who still loves you.
#Still love you
I will never forget what you did.
Nothing of it.
I will remember all what we did.
Everything of it.
I will believe in what I do.
Even in the fact that I still love you.
Longing
I long for the touch of your lips
I long for the slightest touch
I long for those strong arms
I long for the day you return my feelings
I long for the name of mine to be called by your lips
I long for the time to stay still for us
I long for the presence that I love
I long for the eyes to stare back at me
I long for the voice I want to hear
I long for you...
* * *
cherry lipstick sweet
month of April,you do not know the
strength of kiss
you have not grown in to
the month of Mae
:few dayflowers and young before summer’s
warmish nightish sunsets
I taste you with fingers,with eyes
and lips
my pink castles meet yours
and we fall in Spring,love finally understands us;
with strawberry licks and re
freshing orangepurple delight
your tongue sings a duet with mine
and the sky kisses our heads
dandelions in our hair,buttercups tucked behind your ear
* * *
your eyes are palms that so comfortably
can mold my corpse into something,someone
sometime,an unhollow breath to follow your(allure
sifting and starlit,evergreen everglades
the eddies of your voice lingered,rosy dews
heavenly,this misanthrope,i,no longer buried;
the colors of our skin match in the dark,where kisses
know naught but the clandestine of )us
yes,mistakable and heartedly,your arms
collapse into the form of me
relieving the senses of wind and sun
o,how Mother cannot understand what this
means:
not grass nor sea
not sky nor tree
,but the remembrance of us,the nostalgia of the last second
VIII - Jupiter
It was dark and cloudy, cold
but a weak light,
a candle in a rusty white lantern,
was dancing silently.
A rusty table, in the middle
of the garden, where we sat to talk.
Memories of being warmed up
by a fireplace.
Looking up, the sky was black,
not completely, the city lights
looked like muted fireworks.
The stars were not there.
We saw you there, Jupiter
the only little star coming to us.
Your crossed-eyed look hit us
in the deep.
VII - Staring at the water
What a weird spring!
Days of sunlight, days of heavy rain
April is a joker among the months,
switching seasons through the hail.
Mistral is blowing hard
shaking the light dress of trees,
the weak blossoms, the fragile leaves.
Oh, that wind!
Strong enough to break my lips
but not enough to heal the pain.
You hold my hand, making me blush,
take me to the park where we can sit and stare at the water.
The old bench is floating on that wet mirror,
sometimes blue, sometimes grey.
Here we are, sorrounded by the sound
of Mother Nature
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