How lonely it was to love you like the sun, to realize that I was the only light warming your home but that you had already grown accustomed to the cold.
You were always most comfortable at night after I had fallen asleep.
How disappointing it was, midday still waiting out your slumber, to kiss your cheek like the sun’s loyal rays pouring through the sliver between curtains that you stapled shut.
Did you ever want to understand me for who I really was?
How painful it was meeting lovers who would wake at strange hours for the chance to glimpse their own sunshine at dawn, finally take in their beauty, bare without shade.
You became so distant as if my love was overbearing, like all I could do was burn you.
How empty it was to crave affection from a shadow of a man who knew nothing about the dance of pink and orange in the morning sky.
Did you find what you’ve been searching for in the tenebrosity?
How humbling it was to wait for you like the moon, faithfully here but not always remembered, dampening my light into a mere reflection for the chance to finally admire your nocturnal passion and understand who you really are.
Even so, you went stargazing with someone else whose love must have been as cold as the darkest night.
About the Creator
Sam Eliza Green
Writer, wanderer, wild at heart. Sagas, poems, novels. Stay a while. There’s a place for you here.
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More stories from Sam Eliza Green and writers in Poets and other communities.
When Spring Finds Us
Dear dreamer, we owe no promises to January, whose two-faced gaze still lingers on the closing door of last year while eyeing the current. I imagine December is an old friend from which he never wishes to part. Every story of growth features a sentimental longing, even yours.
By Sam Eliza Green2 years ago in Poets
Day 4 of Quitting
If this is how sobriety feels, maybe it’s better to go through life a little buzzed… this, along with other hits like, I want to kill myself, I wish I was dead, and I’m going to throw myself off a bridge have been the only thoughts on rotation these past few days. I promise myself that if, in a month, I still feel like this (‘this’ meaning despondent, full of rage, and simultaneously numb) I can go back to smoking. Until mid-February though? Nicotine is off the table.
By sleepy drafts6 days ago in Longevity
Comments (5)
"You became so distant as if my love was overbearing, like all I could do was burn you." THAT...is a LINE! 💙 This is an ideal topic for a poem to explore metaphors and emotions in depth. Great choice!
Stunning, caught my breath on "to crave affection from a shadow of a man who knew nothing about the dance of pink and orange in the morning sky"
Heartbreaking! Absolutely felt the emotion in this one. Well done, Sam!
I felt this: the sadness, the need, the longing.
So perfectly felt <3