These Fallacies I Build Up In My Head

Hate love poems.

I am sick to death with…


“How soft are his lips”

“The curve of her hips”


I don’t want to write about these fallacies I build up in my head anymore,

And write in my blog to show the world;

Pretending I am some great poet.

The world is filled with billions of topics, and yet,

Nine times out of ten,

Amateurs, with their books of words

And rhyming dictionaries, (like me ha ha)

Chose to write about an emotion, a fear of loneliness.


“Her golden hair”

“His chocolate stare”


I can’t take it anymore.

One after another, marching onto the page,

I squint in the glaring artificial light trying to decode them

And pour out my own thoughts on love

With bad rhyming and questionable syncopation

Poem after poem after poem…


“I feel his hands upon my neck”

“When you’re gone I am a wreck”


And I sit there, on the front of the computer

Writing, typing, thinking, and wish

With every single bone in my body,

Going past the bones and wishing with every inch of myself,

That I was anywhere but here…

~ found treasure