Self-love Poems

Popular Self-love Poems

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

......

I rest my head

by Karan Shah

I rest my head
Upon a pillow so soft
It felt like I was
Below a 1000 kilos
Yet comfort never
Seemed to let me go

The worry chatter
The smiling face
Expressionless

......

Is it?

by zeynep yildirim

Worth it I mean.
The Breath and Withhold you lose trying to convey your Feelings to the World next to xou.
The Stamina you need to develop, to last beneath those crushing Waves of self doubt, self pity and self loathing.
To surrender the Ability to recognize your Reflection after having forgotten which dream to follow.
Endless Moments wasted for a shred of foreign, mindless acceptance.
How come you are ready to lose so much of yourself when you don´t even know what you´re so desperately in Need of.
Ready to thrash between wanting to go unseen and hide your Mistakes or stick out to feel an ounce of Uniqueness.
Because this is not going to end.
It is not going to end with you losing a Battle against yourself in order to blend into the Mass to the Point where you´ve forgotten your favourite colour.
Within your Lifetime the only Thing you´re going to realize is that what you´ve been looking for is right there.

......

Love Me For Who I Am

by Jeffrey Pipes Guice

I’m not happy with the way I look...
I don’t feel pretty in your eyes...
You tell me I need to change my ways...
You want me to wear a disguise...

I used to think I was so exotic...
Until you came into my life...
You said I was your perfect mate...
You asked me to be your wife...

......

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?"

......

Recent Self-love Poems

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

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.

The Monster

by I.R. Patterson

My breathing hitched and my heart sped up. This object shows me a monster, one which I do not wish to see. The monster the object shows me, growled a low rumble, like it was speaking to me. I see the many scars and blemishes on the monster, all of it's flaws. I look again, but I see something different, in their eyes. Anger, guilt, hurt, betrayal, sadness, self-loathing. For once, I feel bad for the monster and it's flaws. They actually seem sorta sweet, and ever so friendly. I get mad at the object for convincing me to think so low of the monster. I curse and punch the object out of frustration. The mirror shatters.

Mining Herself

by Michael J. Nappi

At the pit of her core
despair and darkness.
Turned from the world
in loathing revulsion.

Black as coal.
The ugliness of truth,
a withered world of weight
stares back.

......