poetry*

* a sad attempt of poetry | find more poetry on my ig: catastrophecreations

[catastrophecreations]

“In that moment, I realize this is love,

and what I had before was nothing,

and you, you are everything.”

-love is you

[catastrophecreations]

“I’ve spent all my life wandering alone,

stumbling towards the end,

spending years running away from everyone,

running towards the light.

Then you came along and tripped me up,

I stumbled over you

your words,

your love.

Finally I stopped running,

and started living.”

-loving you is the best thing that could have happened to me

[catastrophecreations]

“at 2:57 I lay here thinking of a way to poetically describe you,

romanticize your very being.

create metaphors for your eyes,

the echo of your laughter,

the kindness in your smile.

and I struggle,

because its so hard to build you into a poem,

when you are already one to begin with”

- no metaphor can do your love justice

[catastrophecreations]

“he says I am beautiful

the words float from his lips and drift through the air,

attaching themselves to my cheeks.

I watch the glimmer in his eyes as he speaks,

how his lips curve when he smiles

and ask myself what I did to deserve this

what I did to be loved by this boy

who never lets me fall asleep without blowing out my candle

who listens without question

and who loves without limits.”

-to the boy who feels like home

[catastrophecreations]

“he says I am beautiful

the words float from his lips and drift through the air,

attaching themselves to my cheeks.

I watch the glimmer in his eyes as he speaks,

how his lips curve when he smiles

and ask myself what I did to deserve this

what I did to be loved by this boy

who never lets me fall asleep without blowing out my candle

who listens without question

and who loves without limits.”

-to the boy who feels like home

[catastrophecreations]

“at 2:57 I lay here thinking of a way to poetically describe you,

romanticize your very being.

create metaphors for your eyes,

the echo of your laughter,

the kindness in your smile.

and I struggle,

because its so hard to build you into a poem,

when you are already one to begin with”

- no metaphor can do your love justice

[catastrophecreations]

“I’ve spent all my life wandering alone,

stumbling towards the end,

spending years running away from everyone,

running towards the light.

Then you came along and tripped me up,

I stumbled over you

your words,

your love.

Finally I stopped running,

and started living.”

-loving you is the best thing that could have happened to me

[catastrophecreations]

“In that moment, I realize this is love,

and what I had before was nothing,

and you, you are everything.”

-love is you

[catastrophecreations]

“on sunday night I almost crashed my car.

gas pedal pressed to the floor,

empty highway,

the sign to my hometown illuminated by headlights.

i watched as the guardrail rushed towards me,

closed my eyes and imagined the collision.

the metal bending at my will,

ending it all on my own terms.

then i thought of them,

the few,

the ones i love,

the ones who would miss me.

and though they are few,

they were enough.

sunday night i grabbed the wheel from my suffering,

and turned it towards the road,

foot off the gas,

and drifted into my hometown,

alive.”

-on monday, after seven years of suffering, i called a therapist

[catastrophecreations]

“this is the first poem i will write about you.

likely not the last,

but in life nothing is certain.

yet with you,

i feel a type of certainty

a lingering in the back of my mind,

one that tells me that this is right,

that this was supposed to happen,

that years of suffering alone have all come to this moment.

and though you are not my savior,

you are a hand to hold,

and a ear to listen.

and maybe, just maybe, that’s all i needed all along.”

- you asked me what inspires my poetry and tonight its you

[catastrophecreations]

“this is the first poem i will write about you.

likely not the last,

but in life nothing is certain.

yet with you,

i feel a type of certainty

a lingering in the back of my mind,

one that tells me that this is right,

that this was supposed to happen,

that years of suffering alone have all come to this moment.

and though you are not my savior,

you are a hand to hold,

and a ear to listen.

and maybe, just maybe, that’s all i needed all along.”

- you asked me what inspires my poetry and tonight its you

[catastrophecreations]

“on sunday night I almost crashed my car.

gas pedal pressed to the floor,

empty highway,

the sign to my hometown illuminated by headlights.

i watched as the guardrail rushed towards me,

closed my eyes and imagined the collision.

the metal bending at my will,

ending it all on my own terms.

then i thought of them,

the few,

the ones i love,

the ones who would miss me.

and though they are few,

they were enough.

sunday night i grabbed the wheel from my suffering,

and turned it towards the road,

foot off the gas,

and drifted into my hometown,

alive.”

-on monday, after seven years of suffering, i called a therapist

[catastrophecreations]

“this is the first poem i will write about you.

likely not the last,

but in life nothing is certain.

yet with you,

i feel a type of certainty

a lingering in the back of my mind,

one that tells me that this is right,

that this was supposed to happen,

that years of suffering alone have all come to this moment.

and though you are not my savior,

you are a hand to hold,

and a ear to listen.

and maybe, just maybe, that’s all i needed all along.”

- you asked me what inspires my poetry and tonight its you

[catastrophecreations]

“on sunday night I almost crashed my car.

gas pedal pressed to the floor,

empty highway,

the sign to my hometown illuminated by headlights.

i watched as the guardrail rushed towards me,

closed my eyes and imagined the collision.

the metal bending at my will,

ending it all on my own terms.

then i thought of them,

the few,

the ones i love,

the ones who would miss me.

and though they are few,

they were enough.

sunday night i grabbed the wheel from my suffering,

and turned it towards the road,

foot off the gas,

and drifted into my hometown,

alive.”

-on monday, after seven years of suffering, i called a therapist

[catastrophecreations]

“I am sick of planting flowers for you.

Watering them with my tears as you stand idly by,

Watching them grow into beautiful things.

Brought about by my misery,

Cultivated by heartache,

Fertilized by the best parts of me.

Plant your own fucking garden.”

- roses are red, violets are blue

[catastrophecreations]

“I am sick of planting flowers for you.

Watering them with my tears as you stand idly by,

Watching them grow into beautiful things.

Brought about by my misery,

Cultivated by heartache,

Fertilized by the best parts of me.

Plant your own fucking garden.”

- roses are red, violets are blue

[catastrophecreations]

“I am sick of planting flowers for you.

Watering them with my tears as you stand idly by,

Watching them grow into beautiful things.

Brought about by my misery,

Cultivated by heartache,

Fertilized by the best parts of me.

Plant your own fucking garden.”

- roses are red, violets are blue