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Best Black Love Poems | Poetry

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New Black Love Poems

Don't stop! The most popular and best Black Love poems are below this new poems list.

Black Love by Magnet, Reggae
Black Love by Yarbrough Quinn, Stephanie
Dirty Black Love by Collins, Darrell
Black Love by Mafia, Alien Man
BLACK LOVE by CHAKRABARTY, RAJAT KANTI
Black Love by Shannon, Amy
Black Love by Mitchell, Latosha
- Black Love - by Smile, Sunshine
WHITE HATE BLACK LOVE by onyango, moses
Black Love by Minardi, Dinda

View all new Black Love Poems

The Best Black Love Poems

Details | Black Love Poem |

- Black Love -


                                               Morning glory
                                               The body is blunt
                                               Thinking of you
                                               before I awake
                                               Stretching my body
                                               Eyes are closed
                                               Can feel your scent
                                               Gently open my eyes
                                               Feel your aroma                                      
                                               The taste on my lips
                                               As a soft kiss                                       
                                               Your scent fills the room
                                               Thought of you,
                                               makes me awake
                                               You are perfect
                                               Heats my body
                                               Embracing you 
                                               Tasting you ... gently                         
                                               A moment of pleasure
                                               Without cream
                                               Without sugar
                                               Black morning coffee




09.06.2013

Details | Black Love Poem |

How Does One Write POETRY

I can imagine : staring in the eyes of : Elizabeth Barret Browning
Seeing the " Glory of LOVE '; bring on the " Sorrow of LOVE "
The sweet outstanding " Black LOVE " of Edgar Allen POE
" Edna St. Vincent Millay " and I Believe in GOD'S Creation

To  sit beside Carrie Richards; Watching POETRY Created
To Live , In the mind of  the Teacher “ Carolyn  Devonshire”
To Understand the Language , as the  Great Master “ Dr. Ram Mehta “
To know ,FOREVER LOVE as the “ SweetHeart” ~ Linda-Marie ~

I have Forever Dreamed: of someday being a POET Laureate
How silly is my mind, when Emotions, have Died Long Ago
Words are Earthly : I can not understand their meaning, “PURPOSE”
If Only the HEART deep with-in the Soul  : could write POETRY
                                 “ I Could “

Details | Black Love Poem |

My Black

My black bleeds the same color red
My black breaths the same air
My black causes death instead
Of life.
My black should live loud and free
My black is me. 
My black loves you
My black loves are true.
My black served the same country
Pride.
My black is set aside
Like last nights trash
Yet I ask, does your color
Mean right, and my black
Mean wrong?
What a sad black song.

Details | Black Love Poem |

Frosted






"Frosted"



A penny for your thoughts?
Scratch that thought.



Thoughts are worth more than pennies
Thoughts are legions of brilliant glistening diamonds 
shining dormant undiscovered in a deep deep dark cave
veins in the walls of The Catacombs blood art fuses lit 
burn and sizzle bright like gunpowder travelling from the Throne of Amygdala
to the Kingdom of the Pounding Scarlet Brave
beats in time with intent and purpose
when the music ceases -
TRUTH
seen very clear 
as through untainted glass
binoculars not necessary here, my dear



Windows of your soul unfrosted
Will see lost love at last



Pennies on your eyelids
mirrors covered with vintage grey
army surplus blankets
trapped in the ashes
dust to dust
open the curtains, move outwards every pain
let the Light and fresh air in



You're alive again.
Ain't that strange?

(Lovejoy-Burton/Feb 2018)

Details | Black Love Poem |

Is A Verse Free

Is A Verse Free 

In these many hours of contemplating 
a verse that is free 
how it has no rhyme yet has rhythm
is truly beyond me   

How is it written as one does speak?  
When no one ever speaks the same? 

So still no sense it makes and now i write 
this as a troubled mind with a little rhythm 
and a little rhyme 
I cannot tell nor see 


So call it what you want to call it 
name matters not at all to me 
my mind hears no rhythm without rhyme  

Yes make of it what you will 
say what you will say
say this form without the rules  
has rules baffling me everyday

Details | Black Love Poem |

The Book of Love


Once upon a time 
I was gifted - The Book of Love 
Pretty, lovely alluring me a lot 
It was then
When I was climbing
The ladder of my aim
I thought it may cause disturbance
But I couldn't quash my eagerness
As soon as I touched the book
Warning words flung from the cover page
"Don't open this book,
It is harmful for your health"
I ignored & shrug off all suggestions
'cause I couldn't quash my impatience
I opened the book of love, atlast

It was beatific & heavenly 
Smiles were raining 
With unusual feelings
I was like flying with invisible wings
Ah! It was whole heaven
In the book I was reading

One day I woke up
Found faraway my competitor 
& I was down on the ladder
I closed The Book Of Love 
Tried my best to step up
Now, for me it was not nonchalant
'cause I was mucho addicted to that
& I couldn't quash my desperation for that
Very evening, I poozled The Book Of Love
On desk  in bags & cupboard
On ventilator, under beds & all drawers
Here, there & everywhere
How could I so careless & sloppy
The Book Of Love was lost - Huh! Unhappy 

I went to the person who gifted me that
To say sorry - I lost that
Then I came to know
An outrageous news-
The Book wasn't lost
But he took his book back
Crestfallen, I pondered what I lack
Every single second,
I was going deep in quicksand

One day I saw
My previous progress cards
Grade A in all of that
I opened my textbooks
So challenging & interesting were those
I understood the best book
Not The Book Of Love
But those of my school
Now I'm ready 
To compete with my friends 
Oh! What's now? 
He offered me-
The Book Of Love again
Now I don't need this- I smiled
Just keep this flotsam with yourself

Details | Black Love Poem |

Amplified

Nothing is ever time wasted,
just the interlude to the rest of the album. Soon it becomes nostalgia. To think you almost pressed the skip button..
It's all about trying new things.
Slowing were briding the gap.
Looping untold tales of blues and jazz into our samples.
The things considered classical.
Instant vintage.
The things we keep hidden in headphones,
The venerability of hype.
It's always about the crowd.
Afraid to digest something different.
This was the first time I met her.
At first I laughed,
Reaction that I faced my own ignorance.
Listening again finding purpose.
Not knowing that we'd come to spend the rest of our lives together.
All three minutes and forty five seconds.
I was dishonest.
Not revealing anything real about myself until I heard it for the first time.
The first time she sung.
Music.
This wasn't an image to be upheld in front of others.
Or the gossip type spread circle to circle.
I was never exposed to this.
Skimming the top layer ready to press next.
Too far caught in the slander that first impressions can give.
History often repeats itself but this wasn't the case.
This was wholeheartedly the epitome of how she effected me.
The rhythm of how she moved.
How she spoke.
Like that I matured almost instantly.
She became my biggest influence.
A two way street that bridged the gap of my own ignorance.
After time I began to leave my headphones on the dresser.
We were amplified.
She'd follow me everywhere just as I'd follow her.
Soon it caught on to the masses.
Each and every thought became a publicist of what she'd recite over and over again.
A parental advisory issued with every cover.
Finding the one became a catalog.
Stumbling back to the first interlude all over again.
The copyright not for sell

Details | Black Love Poem |

Hidden Figures

I am black and I say to kindred flames...
Never assert nor cry "things are the same".

It is the height of dishonor to our fathers,
Our hidden figures of the past, and our martyrs.

We no longer must hide. No need for underground trains.
Do not keep blaming injustice. It's a crooked cane.

Wait for the hand of the oppressor? That is madness!
Why would the oppressed ask the slave owner for access?

Let's take it upon our lettered selves to advance.
So, do not say "things are the same". Now is our chance!

If one hidden figure can succeed, there are no excuses.
If one hidden figure has engineered, where are the nooses?

It is a disgrace to our history to assert "things are the same".
It is a dishonor to our hidden figures...a noose and a chain.

Details | Black Love Poem |

What is Love


What is love?

Love is just a state of mind,
We enter it as if we’re blind.
Love is death love is life,
Love is trouble love is strife.

Love is something we cannot see,
Yet from love we cannot flee.
Love is the reason for life itself,
Sometimes we leave love on the shelf.

Love is the very air that we breathe,
Love is something that we bequeath.
Love is happy love is sad,
Love can sometimes drive us mad.

Love is seldom easily explained,
Sometimes solid and sometimes strained.
Love is distant love is near,
Sometimes obscure and sometimes clear.

Love is funny love is sad,
Sometimes good and sometimes bad.
Love is simple love is plain,
Sometimes mad and sometimes sane.

Love is black love is white,
Sometimes wrong and sometimes right.
Love is cold love is hot,
Sometimes hidden but not forgot.

What is love?, I hear you ask.
To answer this would be a task.
For just as love is not constrained
Love just cannot be explained.

Details | Black Love Poem |

Black Light

Looking back I wonder how we got here
I remember life when
we couldn't get right
every other day was a struggle
communication between
us would crumble
but somehow here we are

It was bad, but we both knew
that it should've been
better than what it was
for some reason in those bad times
it seemed to be more hate than love
but something clicked in both of us
our spirits aligned like the
pyramids on earth & Mars
even in my darkest hour
you light up my world
like a shooting star

we both at a time were lost
a future together seemed far
from our minds
but I look back and see
time was on our side

our relationship was on a
operating table
consumed with misunderstanding
each other which produced stress
we watched it fade away
and fall into cardiac arrest
but somehow we revived it
brought our unconditional love
for each other back to life
stronger than ever
and now I can't even begin
to picture life without you
all those thoughts of doubt left too
we done what seemed to be impossible
at a point and time
where we almost
in a sense flat lined

when I look at you I see new beginnings
I submerged myself in your ocean
and I don't even wanna
think about resurfacing
this is happiness on a new level
we both deserve it
no matter how I word it
my actions will always speak louder
this is what true love should look like
we emulate black love
we illuminate like a black light
our strength epitomizes black power

Details | Black Love Poem |

Dirty Black Love

Dirty Black Love
Written By:  D. Collins 2/19/15

Dirty black love is all that Obama gets.
A regression to oppression from all his hypocrites.
Just know dirty black love will never get to me.
Because, I'm a child of God, no matter what they may see.

I am the man my God intended me to be.
Showing love to those who have hate for me.
What we do in return cannot be discussed.
Just know that dirty black love really bothers us.

What I see on Fox 5, makes me take a second breath.
Knowing how many show signs of being Confederates.
Dirty black love is how it has always been.
But, that doesn't mean we have to bow down to them.

Details | Black Love Poem |

WHITE HATE BLACK LOVE

Snowy eerie cloud shaped like a flying man,faceless,behind him chunks of success.
In seconds it transmogrify s into a Beautiful Hurricane.

Black color despises the white beginning.
Taking over,black fencely loves freedom that's illusive,as its semi-trapped by white.
So white loved black by hiding light somehow,for it knew black's care would eventually retrogress hearts.

Again black shows love,as it crucifys freedom by introducing justice-in.
White hates a little more by criticizing the suggested color blend of fidelity-in.

To interchange,the painter asks,
"Does white make black look good,or vice versa?"
Poet,"Are they not both colors with a purpose."

Singers sang that song,nothing has changed to date.

By M.O.O aka The color blind human

Details | Black Love Poem |

Ode to black men from a black woman

Dear Black Man,

Shout out to your deep waved, shaggy, Afro picking outlines. In honor of the loose fitting jeans with the snap backed, wide hip loving, story telling beats that carry on like the echos of the Congo drums from the motherland. Black Man, I Black woman, am not here today in the name of needing my beauty sanctioned or demanding R-E-S-P-E-C-T from you. I am not angry at you, I am not angry with myself. I am angry with the systems operation on our children' self worth. Don't ever think I am here to stunt your growth. I am Black woman, whose being is the closest thing to God. Whose body is in conjunction with the earth, boring life, as the birds and bees have come to be. My appreciation for you goes on and on like the munchies of the fiend. Though I will never truly understand all the turmoil this earth brings to your face. We share burdens which are too similar to ignore. I see you, Black man, working hard with no reward. Watching your brothers getting stolen and washed away. I see you scared for your lives, running from the greatness of which your sons and fathers possess . Is it that you don't want to show them the potential that has been taken away from your lips? Black man, I uphold your royalty, you are nothing like they make of you to be. Grab your brother's hand and lift it up in solidarity. I black woman, am dignified to stand by you, and fight through any war in the honor of our people. Black man, I hear you. I feel you. I am black woman, whose name should soothe your worried shaken ambitions. Black man, over time your inventions have been gripped by the European counterparts that fear you so much that they intruded your Black women in plain sight. As deep as the hurts appears to be, You and I are the strongest unit, Black love is one of the most sacred existences that there is. Lets turn away from the road of shame, moving toward the flight to recovering and discovering the greatness of who you are.
Love,
A black woman.

Details | Black Love Poem |

Law Offices of McHugh and Ludacris

This is Public domain. COPY&WRIGHT 2009
This is pubic disdain.
Give ME a nickel every time you say it.
frankfurters and tin foil are also mine.
black love incense, no that is mine as well.
If I could own a gluttural mouth noise you bet your buns I would slap a 
ringed 'C' on that baby and make you pay me for
saying it. 
I would have you pay like you pay at the pump, baby. 

So, answer this; why don't more arousing socialites do as I say?
March some of those dimes my way!
Fill the golden alms cup, if you will,
so I 
can buy 
more Alcohol!

Details | Black Love Poem |

Run

im scared
the discovery of self inside of someone else is misunderstood education. im 
not consistent with the principles of a relationship, im not even sure i 
understand the mere foundation. the unbalance of man and woman is known, i 
teach better than i live. the co-existence of kinetic energy on the sphere of 
humanity, the perservation of eden, in the extension of adam and eve in their 
purity. i find the complexity is not always intriguing can be exhausting but i 
love from every sense. touch with my spiritual, feel with my mental, taste with 
emotion, hear with soul interlock all with my physical b/c i dedicate my 
existence to the definition of black love, the recovery of the love movement 
where we lost us. it's me, im full of emotion i rise from 0 to 100 in a - 3 
seconds, i expect submission b/c we're no longer children. i discovered it's too 
much!! he after him always left me at the same space, thinking it was the lack 
of knowledge in self, confidence and pride that dismissed them from my life. 
without him i discovered it was me. 
im scared
im not seeking the answer of why love but why hasn't it trusted me. the insane 
asylum of love, i've committed myself to liberation rehab for those who can't 
discern the mysteries of dedication to our better halves. my reflection is 
painted on a water colored canvas, the colors have drifted becoming a blob of 
mundane rhetoric, i don't care to define. i succumb to the desolation of gray 
tint, until my artist conceives inspiration to paint with me. 
im...........
rememberance without memories, a story that's told without solitude b/c i 
forgot my pen to rehearse my serenity. FORGIVE ME!!

Details | Black Love Poem |

Aurora Borealis Her Manifest Destiny

Listening unto their Fray's How to Save a Life: you stare politely 
Right on through; and you'll begin wonder, why you came ? Where
Did we go wrong I lost a friend, somewhere along in this bitterness ?
Knowing somehow a smoke-filled glass be it not strange the fiery trials..
Crazy her zoo when their birds catch sight chitter chatter his monkies at play
Greeting another antipodes crowd ? Surreal, they must think ironic, truth's cage
Maximus time's lioness anxious, she awaits; ten thousand years, we gaze; descending
Zion, upon these ranks of tears ? Encroached the valley a carcass sleeps; flesh and blood
His vultures dream in circling skies metallic wings; black love's cloth as her moon so draped....
Borne to be wild their daemons famished of wombs, that weep ? Angels, with open arms they run.

Details | Black Love Poem |

YOU

You asked me to write you a poem and I 
could not. Instead I wrote my heartfelt 
confession... please except this into your 
mind, inject this into your spirit and rest 
peacefully with this black thought of the 
purest black love for it is true. Let it shine 
light upon u in your darkest hours... rest 
with solitude upon my words for my pen 
bleeds a beautiful art of expression for 
u...my life source an undying promise to 
continue through it all. I can't elude you. 
There is No escaping for your essence is  
everywhere! In every symphony of notes... 
royal like that the color purple crowned 
king. In the light of candles... even within 
it's siloette casting images of us colliding.  
In the darkness of my eyelids stirring the 
potion of memories... in the glow from the 
world outside my window penetrating 
through them, birds singing they're 
praises to Allah and do I give thanks for 
this union. You are in the silence and the 
humility. The salt of tears, trials and and 
tribulations. In smiles YES.. I remember 
you always. The laughter and the pain 
too... who said it would be easy? Certainly 
not with something this taboo. Deep 
breathing and eye contact u pierce my 
soul. Clinched fist as we ignite the room 
we're sexual elements oh the fire we 
make. Complexity... we are divided but 
together... with me when your away...why 
does it hurt but feel so good? What have u 
done to me? Physically fearless but an 
emotional reck.  I'm into u but over you. 
Want but never have... a beautiful 
struggle. Keeps us trying but denying, 
dividing ourselves unto 
ourselves....selfish! Stubborn. Your 
compelling energy causes me to drop 
down to my knees... I aim to please my 
king... forever honored to serve thee, your 
submissive queen or whomever u need 
me to be. You asked me to write a poem 
but I cannot. Instead I give you this 
realization... u are within the deepest parts 
of me never to be removed. And no matter 
where we stand in life, together or apart, 
high or low, with love or anger,  or even 
from the opposite side of the looking 
glass. On earth or perhaps on crescent moon,
I am with u. Just go within these words 
anytime u need to feel loved and then to 
me....so words come to life.

Details | Black Love Poem |

Black History

If I am no longer a slave
Then why am I bounded by these chains?
No longer sweating in those fields
To fuel my master’s wheels
No more chains around my neck and feet
Just mentally within my reach
How far have my people come?
Depends how far my ancestors ran
To get away from that sulking place
We seem to be trapped in these days 

My heroes didn’t get lynched 
For my future to be so dimmed 
My brothers are being executed 
While the evidence to convict are being refuted
Martin Luther King had a dream
That one day all races will be a team
So why are the changes taking so long
Even after Obama came along
They’ll tell you slavery has ended
But in Libya human rights are being suspended 
For a certain ethnic group
You don’t care because it’s not happening to you

So where are my civil rights?
Do you understand why we fight?
Who feels it, knows it
That’s why we decided to show it
All lives matter they say
While black ones are fading away
All we want is repatriation 
From all the insufferable situations
Peace and love for all my people
One love from all the evil

Details | Black Love Poem |

Kracken

The monster sleeps 
Release the kracken 
A ogre from down deep 
Straight from hell 
A parting of the waves 

Destroying all emotions 
With a rage filled hate 
an almighty roar escapes 
Black loveless heart 
parting of our ways 
One look 
from you 

Stone cold ice breaks 
Killing me cruelly 
without thought 
My warm heart bleeds 
The kracken's way 
turning cold loveless 
Making a stone 
of your heart 

Leave it buried 
in the deep 
Like the hounds of hell 
Chained to a bottomless pit 
Locked in the deepest depths 
In the chambers 
of your heart 
Only then 
love will shine freely

Details | Black Love Poem |

Black Love

Black Love



I can't see you

but I know that you're there

Every time I turn around

i can feel your eyes

I don't know when

i don't know how

your love turned into

something wrong

obsession

the footsteps I hear

behind me

aren't just in my head

the warnings to stay away

you're not listening 

are you?

I'm afraid to know

what's going on

inside that head of yours

inside that heart of yours

I didn't know that

obsession

was a feeling of deep within the heart

I don't know when

I don't know how

your love turned wrong

obsession

The shadows outside my window

whispers in the wind

the lights shining in my room at night

the cries on my window sill

the exta pleas and "Please add Me"

on my social networks

and threats to my new friends

and slashes in my tire treads

when I say "no"

I don't know when 

I don't know how

your love turned wrong

obsession

stalking

obsession

black love

Details | Black Love Poem |

I am the wind

I am the wind. 
Screaming and shattering – on a constant path of destruction.
Wrecking everything I see or touch but never blowing out, 
Never being quite strong enough to shatter myself. 
You can never see me.
I am quite invisible but don’t mistake me, 
I can destroy you if I wish. 
Ruthless with my actions and careless with my words, 
You should stay inside when I’m around, 
Sheltered from the ferocious element that I am,
That is me. 
I am unforgiving and angry,
Much like the ocean’s beloved waves, 
Never underestimate me. 
You cannot anchor your thoughts away from me, 
Or bolt yourself to the ground, 
I will lift you up until your bones feel like liquid,
Your chattering teeth nought but a distant graveyard of hope,
 Before slamming you down,
The liquid replaced with lead, 
Back to reality
If you’d please just listened, 
Stay tucked up in those amber sheets, 
And you’ll never need to know the mess I will someday make of you, 
Please believe me when I say;
I am the wind.

Details | Black Love Poem |

BLACK LOVE

                                 In my studio in a Sunday night
                                       I asked for her hand
                                      I had no bad intention
                                         I only tied a band
                                    But the band seemed eerie
                                      It was a scorpion tail
                              My single stroke in this weepy night
                                   Ended in death without fail.

Details | Black Love Poem |

Black Love

It was random, although the night was intentional. You touched my inner being like delicate fine art. The steadiness of your hands gathered my reluctance like a bouquet of white roses and directed it into free submission. It seemed, as if you were fluent in the language of my pulsating heart. My flesh became immortal for a moment in time.  My better judgment went off like a siren but it was much too late, so precise, you were ahead of the game. So, we became in-sync like two beating drums, creating our own tune so passionate, as we reunited two different cultures, two estranged tribes from our origin, near the edge of the sea, of the coast of Mother Africa.

Details | Black Love Poem |

Maybe Spanish

J'apprends le français en ce moment
parce que j'ai l'intention de voyager à Paris.
Je ne parle pas couramment le français.
J'ai découvert Le Lac il y a quelques années.

Par un mariage
Du côté de ma mère,
nous sommes liés à l'écrivain français /
romancier Pascal Lainé.
Dentelle délicate,
une histoire d'Apple.

Je ne fais pas de traductions.
J'écris mes propres poèmes
et des histoires originales en anglais.
Toujours dans mes propres mots,
parfois je me saisis.

Mais ils sont
Les originaux de la vie.
 
Des images uniques de mon coeur.
Je partage avec des étrangers
mondes à part,
peut-être des étrangers,
peut être pas.

Aujourd'hui j'écris en langage romantique
parce que tout est un peu tradic
ici parfois ...
asseyez-vous avec votre burlesque
les équipes qui écrivent leur danse
histoires dans l'obscurité.

Un peu de lumière
Watt? Eh bien, peu importe
watt peut être trouvé
faire pivoter tous les fissurés
enregistrements autour.

Mes muses parfois
pocher mes mots.
C'est bon par moi.
Une certaine forme de flatterie.
Peut-être chicanery lisse.

Je rebondis de nouveaux concepts à partir de leurs histoires
parfois.
Jamais derrière,
toujours de l'avant.
Parfois cette violette Lavendar
sentir le nettoyeur de sol,
trop clinique
meilleures roses
Jacobinical.

Toutes mes histoires sont à moi.
Totalement original.
Cosmos au chocolat
Frangipanis cyclique
Il y a une vraie beauté
Débutant vert
jamais un mot
voleur criminel.
Juste un pécheur maigre

Mon amour de l'écriture
et la lecture est héritée.
"Il y a toujours de la musique dans tes mots -
toucher les cœurs des autres oiseaux
qui a des oreilles pour écouter, et sinon, "
il a dit, "bien les laisser à leur propre mission".

La magie ne s'ouvrira pas
Comme il se doit
si vous êtes seulement ici
juste pour les applaudissements.

Quelque part dans mon sang,
il y a la langue
du vrai roman.
Quelque chose appelé "LOVE".

L'Italie appelle, pas la France.
Paolo Conte chante Romance.
Vive Le France
Piaf la Révolution
Notradame leur Dieu ci-dessus.

Encore une fois, je suis capricieux ...

Peut-être Argentine
où ils se déplacent
les corps se ferment dans
Tango, dur et serré
la danse de la vraie romance
Les étrangers deviennent des amoureux
nuit et tantrique
prend le vol complet.

Les appels d'aventure,
Vivre la vie
Peut-être espagnol.


1.  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JNYOVEXJBBM
2.  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iY1IM0Hsf5Q
3.  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c2Gkqg4wco0

(Lovejoy-Burton/2018 Jan)

Details | Black Love Poem |

Spill

A single drop escapes
A single drop after years of
Trapping it all inside
Trapping it all inside a wooden box,
Locking it all up tightly,
Locking it all up and only you have the key.

A single drop made from
Water, lysozymes and glucose,
But so much more than just that.

It’s made from anger, sadness,
Regret and despair.
It’s made from your molecules
Still lingering in the air.
From the final scenes that I
Still replay in my head,
From the sharpness in your voice,
The pure hatred and loathing,
To the words that never needed
To be said.

Right down to the last straw.
The last chapter in our story,
The final piece in our jigsaw.

The memories fold in on each other,
They choke the words creeping up my throat.
They sink my deflated heart to the bottom of my chest
As I watch you adjust the sails on the boat
That I’m no longer in.

Just like that,
I can no longer contain myself
And the tears begin to spill.