You can keep reading my poems, but remember that you lost the poet.
You can only read my feelings, but doing that doesn't hold half the pleasure of experiencing them does it?
You will never hear my voice or have me in your embrace again, but what does that matter to you?
As your eyes are busy looking at another; to not be looking at me.
Your lips are busy talking to another; to not be speaking to me.
Your arms are occupied with another; who isn't me.
Your mind thinks of another; with me nowhere to be found.
Your heart beats for another now; when its used to beating for me.
Do you remember that discord status I set all those summers ago about us either being a lesson or a blessing?
I got my answer in the end,
You were such a heartbreaking lesson I had to learn, and I still reminisce when those 14 year old us prayed it was a blessing - how naive of us.
- JJ
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Author:
JJ (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: May 18th, 2026 07:57
- Comment from author about the poem: You said I was too much for you, so why do you come here to read my work?
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 5
- Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange
Offline)
Comments2
J.J., this really moved me…especially the way the poem shifts from longing into realization. The repeated “another” builds this unbearable sense of replacement and distance, but the ending is what stayed with me most…the memory of those younger versions of yourselves still believing it would become a blessing. That kind of hindsight hurts in such a human way. Quietly devastating piece, my friend. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
My writing often shifts because its like a reflection of the exact thoughts going through my mind as I write.
I appreciate the depth of your understanding on this peom, thank you! 💛
A poem of a young love lost and what it is now. Well written
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