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I know I write too many love poems, and perhaps this is me admitting that the love inside me is still there somewhere, stagnant – but its a cruel addiction. I need a intervention.

Emily Kurc

There were still embers scattered around me from the bridges I have burned. I wonder if they can feel it too. The space between us lingering like a scarlet letter, I’m learning how to love again.
EMILY KURC

Bridge Learning Love Myself Scatter Wonder
Faded secrets and old voices have built towns inside my heart. Thats were we still meet.
EMILY KURC

Build Fade Heart Myself Secret Voice
I no longer wear my heart on my sleeve. Instead, I keep this love folded up, like a tiny paper plane, until my heart is ready to soar again.
EMILY KURC

Heart Love Myself Plane
Do ghosts get tired of haunting? Of chasing old flames in darkness, of walking through dreams casting shadows against walls, against hearts, do they feel themselves forgotten?
EMILY KURC

Feeling Flame Forget Ghost Haunt Old Philosophy
A place where our stories are rewritten, and six degrees of separation no longer troubles us.
EMILY KURC

Ourselves Place Separation Story Trouble Writing
I taught you how to love so you could get it right with someone else.
EMILY KURC

Love Myself Right Teaching Yourself
I learned to make art with my broken heart.
EMILY KURC

Art Broken Heart Learning Myself
Men like you were never meant for storms like us.
EMILY KURC

Instagram Captions Man Storm Yourself
My mother always told me that love is like a plant, but she never prepared me for the realization that too much love towards the wrong person can drown your heart until it rots.
EMILY KURC

Heart Love Mom Myself Preparation Realization
I am still weighed down by unspeakable heaviness- It follows like shadow currents.
EMILY KURC

Current heavy Myself Shadow
Soft and sweet and wrapped around your fingertips.
EMILY KURC

Fingers Love Relationship Soft Sweet
Occasionally, the sun is eclipsed by the body of a weeping human. Her tears make the soil harden and crust like the top of a burnt load of bread.
EMILY KURC

Body Cry Eclipse Food Herself Human Occasion Sun
We all show our true colors eventually – mine is dark and firesome red. I bet I burned you. I don’t expect to see you soon.
EMILY KURC

Burn Color Darkness Expectation Myself True Yourself
Leave me like you mean it. My heart can’t keep waiting for you.
EMILY KURC

Break Up Heart Leave Yourself
I think I’ll always remember your birthday and the way you took your coffee because they’ll forever be pieces of you I cannot burn.
EMILY KURC

Burn Coffee Forever Myself Pieces Remember Thinking Way
Spill yourself onto the page with ink and a half healed heart and watch the words blossom.
EMILY KURC

Blossom Healing Heart Page Word Yourself

I know I write too many love poems, and perhaps this is me admitting that the love inside me is still there somewhere, stagnant – but its a cruel addiction. I need a intervention.

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I know I write too many love poems, and perhaps this is me admitting that the love inside me is still there somewhere, stagnant – but its a cruel addiction. I need a intervention.

Related Topics

Popular Authors

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