Warning: This work has been rated 16+.
He felt warm and familiar.
He felt solid and safe.
I wanted to cling to his shirt,
bury my face in the curve of his neck,
and never let go.
He didn't let me go for the longest time.
He held onto me
wanting me to be alright.
I didn't mean to fall for him, but I did.
And he didn't mean to hurt me, but he did.
We became one in that moment:
all our fears and sadness drowning
in our connection.
I'm scared as hell to want him still,
yet here I am.
Wanting him anyways.
I want to run up to him and say
Be my Superman.
I want to hold him just like he held me that night, after a Friday night football game. How he knew I was going to cry, how he could see it in my eyes, so he just pulled me into him for the longest time.
He didn't show any emotion if anyone saw us and gave a damn about the sight.
He's taken, by another girl in real life and by my heart in my fantasies.
If only I could have held onto him longer. If only I could travel back in time and change it so he would fall in love with me. But, maybe he is.
I don't quite believe we have a friendship. Nor do we have a relationship. Something in-between. Something that can make me intoxicated with just the smell of him, something that can mean so much to him if I say a few words. Something that can never be taken away from us.
Some might call it closure.
Others prefer connection.
But we call it falling in love.
Points:
Time spent:
IP address:
Canary word: Present
Possible AI signals:
Original Text:
Are you sure you want to delete this comment? This cannot be undone.
Mark this comment as a review? Points will be awarded to the poster.
Your comment was posted, but it wasn’t long enough to count as a review. Reviews need about four complete sentences (at least 250 characters). Try writing another review that explains your thoughts in more detail — the author will appreciate it, and you’ll earn points for it.
Well, I will tell you now that this almost brought tears into my eyes. This is a more casual style of poetry than I am used to reading, just because I read a lot of Keats and Poe, so I am accustomed to very elevated language, but this moved me nonetheless. I feel like this would be even stronger if you used some stronger vocabulary and phrasing, which is easy to accomplish with the help of a thesaurus. Yet, I related to this in many more ways than one, and I think that you have truly written something good when your reader is deeply moved! Well done, and keep tapping into your own feelings and emotions to write! It is genuine and real and ultimately produces a better work when you write from a place within yourself! Really loved this, and well done.
Thanks!
Hi Remington38 here
Honestly I absolutely love your writing style and just your writing in general. There is so much emotion portrayed in this it's overwhelming, but in a good way. Love is supposed to be overwhelming. I can see this completely happening and can almost picture it being a scene in a young adult book. I respect @RachitBansal point of view on teenagers in love, but I also think teenagers are looked at in the wrong idea (and I am not trying to be cliche and say they are misunderstood.) They go from being a child to a young adult that now start to feel things more in depth and are expected to just deal with it perfectly. Imperfections are human nature and @CallMeFreak you capture that beautifully into your work.
Thank you
See, if I comment beyond this poem, I would say, 'look you're only 14, and the poem here so much about love and your feelings with a boy, I mean, do you really think this is the age that you will realise what real love is? I mean I hate these teenagers who find a little something interaction or something and pile over nonsense' I don't mean to hurt your feelings but I personally hate these love things.
On the poem, it sounds good, more of a prose. The imagery was amazing. Here are the lines I loved:
I want to run up to him and say
Be my Superman.
I want to hold him just like he held me that night, after a Friday night football game. How he knew I was going to cry, how he could see it in my eyes, so he just pulled me into him for the longest time.
didn't let me go for the longest time.
He held onto me
wanting me to be alright.
I didn't mean to fall for him, but I did.
And he didn't mean to hurt me, but he did.
Good work!
Keep writing!
Do read some of my work
....okay, um thanks