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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

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 like to think of myself as the sun, but it gets really lonely all the way out here especially when everything I try to touch burns.
EMILY KURC

Burn Lonely Myself Sun Thinking Touch Try
Faded secrets and old voices have built towns inside my heart. Thats were we still meet.
EMILY KURC

Build Fade Heart Myself Secret Voice
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
He grabbed my hand as the flames licked at my feet and the devil and I danced.
EMILY KURC

Dance Devil Flame Hands Myself
I don’t love you anymore. But each time you begin to fade it makes my heart feel numb.
EMILY KURC

Beginning Fade Feeling Heart Love Myself Time
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
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
The future belongs to those who are brave enough to speak up about things that matter.
EMILY KURC

Brave Enough Future Talk Worth
I miss the sweat of september and the stickiness of the sheets.
EMILY KURC

Bed Love Missing Myself Romance Togetherness
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
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
A place where our stories are rewritten, and six degrees of separation no longer troubles us.
EMILY KURC

Ourselves Place Separation Story Trouble Writing
There was a hesitation in your touch only time could see.
EMILY KURC

Hesitation See Time Touch Yourself
When the leaves begin to fall, I find myself returning to old playlists in hopes that I can feel you holding my hand, or kissing me goodnight, or hear you singing my name into songs and blueing when it makes no sense.
EMILY KURC

Beginning Fall Leaves Name Old Play Return Sing Song Yourself
I taught you how to love so you could get it right with someone else.
EMILY KURC

Love Myself Right Teaching Yourself

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.

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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.

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Popular Authors

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