Self-love Poems
a lost student's perspective on love
by Trevor Paul
I have to ask myself this question. Why did I ever stop writing? Why have I never shared my writing to the world. Maybe it has to do with my inability to love anything I do. I guess when I thought when I was writing this, my perspective would be a romanticized mumbo jumbo about the girl if been obsessing over since the day I met her. But I think I need to write something about someone else. How can I love a girl so unconditionally and yet fail to give any love to myself?
I think its safe to say I’ve got things I need to work on. But I can’t seem to shake this feeling of love that she makes me feel. Everything just comes easy with her. I don’t hide who I am and I just want to hold her in my arms and never let go. This may sound dumb but I can already see me getting married to her. The fact that I can love this girl so much and yet, fail to be kind to myself makes me realize that there is more to love then just family, friends and relationships.
Self love is a concept that many of us struggle to let into our lives. The entire population of young adults know how important this form of love is to one another. Yet so many of us struggle daily to say one nice thing about ourselves. I guess my incapability to love myself drives from a deep dark pit inside my heart. I’ve always described my heart as an empty cauldron with a leak at the bottom. Can always be refilled, but will eventually empty. Left with nothing but a numbness, empty and depressive feeling.
But it doesn’t have to end in darkness. Many amazing events drive from love. It is not only the act of marriage that defines what love is. Love comes in all shapes and sizes, just like the human body. And the human body, that’s where love was born. Our heart can only define what we see love is. My heart see’s love in hopefulness. One day I will feel that ultimate love. But that’s just my perspective.
Imperfect Perfection
by Shreeja Banerjee
In life's canvas, where strokes are free,
Imperfections paint our destiny.
The dance of flaws, a rhythmic beat,
Makes our journey truly complete.
A masterpiece, with lines askew,
A symphony of errors, true.
In every flaw, a beauty gleams,
A treasure hidden in life's dreams.
A dancer's stumble, a graceful fall,
Imperfections make us stand so tall.
......
Leaving eighteen
by Zainab Noor
Leaving eighteen
What is wrong with me?
Every single night before I close my eyes
This question plays in my head on repeat
I know I'll never be able to answer
This question
Because I don't know what is wrong with me...
I don't think there is anything wrong with me
I'm just drowning in a pool of self hate
......
Incomplete Duet
by Aditi Hayaran
And I love myself, respect and care.
"Don't search for love," I know, it's rare.
To look for unadulterated adoration despite the presence of lust.
To crave the loyalty from a species that takes pride in crushing trust.
Yet I'm patient, I've always been.
A glimpse for everyone, never truly seen.
And I'll wait, but not for an eternity.
......
What does it mean?
by Karan Shah
What does it mean
When one says
“That I no longer see
The colors around me”
How does one convey
The feeling of mutual understanding
A swirl of emotions
Stirring within, screaming
To fling open its gates and embrace
A broken, torn soul
......
Incomplete Duet
by Aditi Hayaran
And I love myself, respect and care.
"Don't search for love," I know, it's rare.
To look for unadulterated adoration despite the presence of lust.
To crave the loyalty from a species that takes pride in crushing trust.
Yet I'm patient, I've always been.
A glimpse for everyone, never truly seen.
And I'll wait, but not for an eternity.
......
Seeing me
by Aditi Hayaran
I saw, a mirror in front.
No lies, no deception—it's blunt.
Whenever I took a deep breath, and stood near,
I see eyes in the mirror.
Joyous sometimes, sometimes gloom,
Pretty-pretty eyes, judging whom?
Of course it's me, being judged by my eyes,
I'm idiotic too, but at the same time I'm wise.
......
Rotten and Hungry
by Mac Schultz
Ever since I was born, I was rotten. I was born out of contempt, made out of hate. It was always going to be this way, and that is fine. I can accept it, even embrace it, I’ll find some way to aestheticize the gasoline in my blood. I feed the poison until it’s all-consuming and surrounds me in a warm blanket of filth and flesh.
I don’t want to lose it, because I don’t know what else there is. There isn’t much else for me.
I lack creativity and natural talent. A more accurate description is that I lack the words to describe the vivid feeling in my chest. The way my head throbs every day, trying to break out of its bony constraints and slither out of me because I swear there’s something meaningful in there.
So I can find comfort in the rot, in knowing that it must be worth something. It has to be, because I cannot accept that I just feel everything far too deeply and intensely until there’s nothing to feel at all.
I cannot even accept mundane kindness. I react to it like a vulture, pecking at it until I’ve taken all there is, harbouring and hunting the remnants because I just cannot trust it. I react with suspicion and - because I refuse to show that I’m afraid - my fear turns into anger.
......
Conversation with the cosmos
by Daniel Ryan Cotler
Beneath the quilt of starlit thread,
Across the skies where comets bled,
I drifted far beyond the blue,
To speak with all the universe knew.
I sat upon a silver ring,
Where Saturn’s whispers softly sing,
And cried aloud to endless night:
"Is there love for me in this life?"
......
Distant Whisper
by Nad Sof
I searched for love in distant eyes,
In empty words, in fleeting skies.
But silence whispered, soft and clear—
The love you seek is always near.
I held the pain, the dark, the light,
And in that space, I found my sight.
No need for others to complete,
I am my own, whole and sweet.
