Poems of a Lover & a Fighter
Poems Written in Blood, but Covered in Rose Petals
"Are you a lover or a fighter"
Oh, darling, you can be more than one thing.
If it pleases you,
it is possible to write your words in blood,
but then proceed to cover the gore in rose petals.
Be a lover, when the lover is called,
but be a fighter, when the lover is hurt.
~~~~~
London, My Heart Shall Lay
I belong in London,
where tourists come from around the world
to see such amazement.
They gather in the streets
to see old landmarks,
and spots of their favorite fantasy worlds.
I belong in London,
where century old bricks lay in the streets,
a place where the culture is rivaled.
A place where in each corner,
each lamp post,
or each statue,
has a story to tell.
I belong in London
where paved bridges cross
The River Thames,
When during the day thousands of wandering souls cross,
but at midnight on a freshly rained evening
the pavement glistens.
As silent waters glide by
creating an image only some dream about.
I belong in London,
it is where my heart pulls too,
and where my heart shall lay.
~~~~~
New Favorite
It's pancakes together
on a Tuesday morning.
It's candle light picnics
outside on the little balcony
of your apartment.
It's leaving the house at 2 AM
just for a sporadic adventure
under the city lights.
It's knowing that your tea
always consists of
two creams and one sugar.
It's never been the show.
It's never been proving my love of you
to others around us.
It's the little secrets we hide
behind locked doors
that draws me so close to you.
It's always been your
dimples coming out
when I read you a new poem
and you say it's your new favorite.
~~~~~
Let me love you,
under city lights.
Always let me kiss you
after midnight fights.
If you give me the chance,
I will happily let our fire
ignite.
I've wanted nothing more than this,
please,
don't let this love be a chance
you'll miss.
~~~~~
I miss you,
so much.
But it makes no sense,
really,
because,
how can I miss you
more than anything,
when I've only
ever met you
in my dreams.
~~~~~
I collect books
filled with words
to fill the void
of the words
I used to so desperately crave.
~~~~~
I want you,
with me,
sitting upon a bridge,
at midnight,
telling each other,
what our favorite colors are
at that specific moment.
~~~~~
When I think of
peace,
I think of you,
lying close to me,
on a cold autumn night,
hearing nothing but the sounds
of your heart beat
and the quiet
tick tock
of the clock above our heads.
~~~~~
One day I'll find you.
I'll spot you in the
hustle of a thousand people
of the city I now call home.
I'll hear your laugh,
and know it's the laugh
I want to hear for the
rest of my life.
I'll see the twinkle in your eyes
on a clear night
and pick it out
from under a million twinkling stars.
One day I'll find you,
and the day I do,
I'll know it's been you,
all along.
~~~~~
I spend most of my nights
writing
about the love we used to share
or
about the times you used to care
or
even about how you told me
"forever."
I just can't believe,
that I became to much for you to bare.
~~~~~
I wonder if you know,
if you know that all the words
that spill from my heart,
onto the sheets of scattered papers
in my room
are all for you.
~~~~~
Some nights
when I look to the sky for
some inspiration.
The sky does me a favor,
it paints you
out if it's trillions of stars.
Even placing your dimples,
right in the spot they appear
when you smile so brightly.
Some nights,
the sky just gives me
all the inspiration
I will ever need.
~~~~~
The night you said
"goodbye"
I heard glass shatter
from the home we once shared,
when I looked around
to see nothing had broken,
It was then
I realized,
the shattering
was my heart.
(You let go,
and it fell to the ground,
and you left me,
to sweep up all the pieces.)
~~~~~
The clock above my head,
of the bead we used to share,
counts the seconds you've been gone.
1... 2... 3... 4... 5...
Each second,
giving me a new memory,
of the love you once gave me.
~~~~~
Thanks for reading, if you made it this far!
I appreciate the love you all give! My poetry is an extension of my heart and soul, seeing it be read, seeing it have love, it means everything to me. So again thank you so so so much!
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XOXO
~ Sierra Lynn
About the Creator
Sierra Lynn
Aspiring historian. Fiction enthusiast. Lover of mystery.
Writer of macabre, fantasy realms, and historical ideals.
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