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Each time I fall back in love with myself, I leave my pen and paper behind. It isn’t personal, or maybe it is. I just a always thought that poetry was for the hurting.

Emily Kurc

Your name still tastes like poison in my mouth.
EMILY KURC

Myself Name Poison Taste
Even the places we used to visit in this empty town feel lyrical. My heart can’t help but sing along even now, but I’m tired.
EMILY KURC

Empty Feeling Help Myself Place Tired Visit
I woke up this morning and for once, I had no desire to drink my morning coffee. Is that how it felt for you to wake up and never return?
EMILY KURC

Coffee Desire Drink Morning Return Wake Up Yourself
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
The sky was crying so I wiped away her tears, just like all the times she did the same me.
EMILY KURC

Cry Myself Sky Tears Time
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 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

Addiction Cruel Love Myself Need Poem Writing
The sun touched your skin with innocent delicacy as if you were a work of out that was made to be admired deeply.
EMILY KURC

Admire Deep Innocence Skin Sun Touch Yourself
I thought time would heal my broken heart, but its been forever since I fell in love and I’m scared that you took pieces of me that can’t be replaced.
EMILY KURC

Broken Heart Healing Myself Pieces Replacement Scare Thinking Time
He grabbed my hand as the flames licked at my feet and the devil and I danced.
EMILY KURC

Dance Devil Flame Hands Myself
A sea of jumbled emotions I had longed to live again, a feeling that no metaphor could match.
EMILY KURC

Emotion Feeling Live Myself Sea
I learned to make art with my broken heart.
EMILY KURC

Art Broken Heart Learning Myself
Leave me like you mean it. My heart can’t keep waiting for you.
EMILY KURC

Break Up Heart Leave Yourself
I miss the sweat of september and the stickiness of the sheets.
EMILY KURC

Bed Love Missing Myself Romance Togetherness
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
Faded secrets and old voices have built towns inside my heart. Thats were we still meet.
EMILY KURC

Build Fade Heart Myself Secret Voice

Each time I fall back in love with myself, I leave my pen and paper behind. It isn’t personal, or maybe it is. I just a always thought that poetry was for the hurting.

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Each time I fall back in love with myself, I leave my pen and paper behind. It isn’t personal, or maybe it is. I just a always thought that poetry was for the hurting.

Related Topics

Popular Authors

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