poems that make me cry

It’s been months since our last conversation. Now I’m drinking all these different alcohols and taking all these different drugs to make all these different people look like you.
—  You’re the only thing on my mind
The Eastern sea
like an endless field of crushed lilacs
over stardust. The shore, swept gold
as the knees of her sister
at Delphi,
far-stretched below the balcony,
and the white-silk lilies
with crystal stalks and Old Viennese petals;
—  Catherynne M. Valente, from The Oracle At Savannah in “Oracles: A Pilgrimage”


but, here are the reasons why i should // she makes me feel like the swollen desert sun is inside of me and like i am s h i n i n g   g o l d e n through all my broken places. // she knows more of me than anyone else. // she’s always been all the best parts of me.

Based on the Desert Girls poem by @nowthatsheaven​ for making me cry.

I used the excuse of finding myself so that I could let you go,
Because if I’d been honest with you I never would have known,
That I could laugh without you,
And no longer would I cry,
My face forever smiling,
My cheeks are always dry,
Unless he makes me laugh too hard and then all hell breaks loose,
It’s marvelous how great life can be, when you’re allowed to choose

im a daydream, rosy flushed cheeks and constantly glowing. a voice as sweet as honey and the air that floats around me is soft and heavenly. i leave men starry eyed and make strangers fall in love with me on the train. i make boys cry and have a thousand poems written about me.

Two months have passed
I keep hearing “time heals all”
It sinks in deeper with time

Two months have passed
And I dont love you any less
Of course I miss you more

Two months have passed
It still hurts to hear your name
Knowing the connection we had
Can never be the same

Two months have passed
Soon it will be six months
A year will sneak up
Never forget the love between us

On six strings you spoke to me,
As the words would not come out,
Showed me where to place my fingers,
As I tried to play aloud,
A song by my favorite band,
The only one I’d ever play.
As I wasn’t meant for music,
Like I wasn’t meant to stay.


Thomas H Cook does
A visit to all vile places.
When he peers at the spot
Where they jump from
The Golden Gate Bridge
He knows humanity even
If he forces himself to shrug.
Because here’s the thing.
When he turns away from his
Ghoulish tourist moment, he
Notices a stranger looking at him
As if pleased and relieved to see
Him apparently decide not to die.
“Selfless, anonymous care.”
There it is, Thomas. That will
Make me cry. Human, it seems.


it’s been a while since i’ve listened to this, but it’s one of my favorite poems and it makes me smile laugh and cry every time.

i do - andrea gibson

for fifty years, you were my favorite poem

and i’d read you every night,

knowing i might never understand every word but that was okay

cause the lines of you were the closest things to holy i’d ever heard

you’d say, “this kind of love has to be a verb”