along-with-the-hundreds-of-poems

I didn’t fall in love with you.

I walked into love with you, my eyes wide open, choosing to take every step along the way.

I do believe in fate and destiny, but I also believe we are only fated to do the things we’d choose anyway.

And I’d choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I’d find you and I’d choose you.

—  The Chaos of Stars

i just want to believe that somebody will eventually look at me like thinking of me makes them come undone, like i make their heart stutter against their rib bones. i just want to believe that after all of this, somebody will finally see the sun in me, will want me beside them, will dream of soft domestic moments like coffee dates and doing the laundry. i just want to be enough for once. i know the person who can do that first is myself. it doesn’t really help. writing myself love poems and having one someone else wrote are two different emotions. i know i should be patient and work on myself and hope for the best. i just want somebody along for the ride. somebody i share my life with. somebody who is spilling over with love. i would give it back a hundred times over. i would repay them for it to the best of my little heart. i just want to be wanted. 

I raise my hands trying to catch my tears,
Counting it while I’m holding my breath,
One drop,
And I choke,
Two drops,
And I’m shaking,
Three drops,
And I sob,
Four drops,
And I lose control,
I never reach five,
Cause five come along with tens and hundreds more drops..
I cry,
I cry so loud in my mind,
But so silent on my lips.
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The Roar Poetry Anthology
The Roar is an upcoming poetry anthology in support of Cancer Research UK, following the success of...

Hello, friends! Do you hate cancer? Do you love poetry? If one or both of those statements applies to you, then you may be interested in this. 

My friend is organising a poetry anthology, from which all the proceeds will be going to Cancer Research UK.

The anthology is open to submissions from anyone at all, and you can submit up to three poems on any subject, along with a short writer bio of up to 100 words, to the email address theroarpoetryanthology@outlook.com. If your poem is selected for publication (which I’m sure it will be, you talented darlings), then you’ll have the reward of seeing your work in print in the final paperback anthology, as well as helping to raise money for a very noble cause indeed.

He arranged a similar anthology last year, which ended up raising hundreds of pounds for Cancer Research UK (and which you can purchase here). I really do recommend that you pick up a copy of the first anthology if you don’t feel like you’re able to submit a poem but still want to contribute. Also, I was published in that one. What more incentive could you possibly need?

I didn’t fall in love with you, no not at all. I walked into love with you. My eyes were wide open, choosing you to take every step with me along the way.
I do believe in fate & destiny, but I also believe we are fated to do the things we would choose to do anyway. And I chose you.
Even if I had a hundred life times, I’d choose you. In any version of reality, I’d look for you, I’d find you and I would choose you.
—  TheWriterInBlvck

Sharing some quotes that remind me of Clexa 

“I didn’t fall in love with you. I walked into love with you, with my eyes wide open, choosing to take every step along the way.I do believe in fate and destiny, but I also believe we are only fated to do the things that we’d choose anyway. And I’d choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I’d find you and I’d choose you.”

“ I think we deserve a soft epilogue, my love. We are good people and we’ve suffered enough.”

“Perhaps we’ll find each other later,
when we aren’t two kids
scrambling to find a home.

Maybe we’ll intersect again,
with new collections
of memories and dreams
tied to our ankles,
searching for someone
to lighten to burden.

And maybe, just maybe,
next time the
I-love-yous will be real,
instead of muttered hopes
that left our lips bloodstained.”

“ You can’t love someone unless you love yourself first — bullshit.
I have never loved myself.
But you — Oh god, I loved you so much I forgot what hating myself felt like.”

I’m always soft for you, that’s the problem. You could come knocking on my door five years from now and I would open my arms wider and say ‘come here, it’s been too long, it felt like home with you.’”

“And when it started to get dark, you pointed to the sky, and told me there was a star for every thing you loved about me.”

“I’d cut my soul into a million different pieces just to form a constellation to light your way home. I’d write love poems to the parts of yourself you can’t stand. I’d stand in the shadows of your heart and tell you I’m not afraid of your dark.”

“I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.”

“It may have been in bits and pieces, but I gave you the best of me.”

“You are not the heaviness
sitting inside of you.
You are not the battlefield
where the bodies fall,
and you are not the sound of cannons
breaking the sky open.
You are what happens after the war.
The surviving. The healing. The rebuilding.”

He stared. He stared all along, not missing a word. For a second, his faded eyes looked alive. One second later, we we’re one and more than anything we we’re doomed.
It was that feeling. That bittersweet feeling of getting into something knowing that everyone would end up hurt, and he’d be hundreds of miles away in a day. And I’d go back to being cold and seeming whole, and no one would ever know. We’d both smile and we’d both be fake, but it’d be for our own good and, maybe, one day, it’ll hurt less and less until we won’t have to fake laughs. One day, maybe. Not today and not tomorrow, but one day.
—  colorfulsound 

I didn’t fall in love with you.

I walked into love with you, with my eyes wide open, choosing to take every step along the way.

I do believe in fate and destiny, but I also believe we are only fated to do the things that we’d choose anyway.

And I’d choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I’d find you and I’d choose you.

Day Three Hundred Thirty Five.

Find me 
Curled up with a good book 
A steaming cup of coffee 
Clad in pajamas
Hair tied back  
Settling in for a night of 
Fantastical adventures

Find me
Strolling through 
Cobble stone streets
Guided by a traveler’s soul 
And an unquenchable thirst 
For discovery 

Find me 
Behind a podium
Speaking with passion
Eloquence
Delivering prose 
Standing tall
Standing up
Standing 
For what I believe in

Find me 
Come along for the ride
But don’t you dare stand in my way. 

And indeed there will be time
For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,
Rubbing its back upon the window panes;
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate;
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.
—  T.S. Eliot, The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock