In your presence, I rode an emotional roller coaster.
A wild journey through peaks and valleys, no poster.
From dizzying heights to the depths of a dungeon.
You stir my soul, unraveling emotions, no truncheon.
My defenses crumble. Humility takes the throne.
As the guarded walls fall, vulnerability begins to grow.
My soul sponge, you could absorb both joy and strife.
A paradoxical addiction—the essence of life.
So here I am, in this loveless mess.
A captive willingly submitted.
As sanity and reason gradually diminish.
My emotional compass spins without prediction.
Being in love with you—an exquisite affliction.
The heart’s escapades are wild and uncontrollable
Possessiveness, jealousy, fear of rejection
False evidence, a delusion, complete fiction.
I sacrificed everything, now my life takes precedence.
Involuntary passion is beyond consolation.
Goodbye, codependence; hello independence.
You love me, then leave me alone,
Loving you is not good for me,
it’s recklessly wrong.
It’s trouble.
One of the most conceited couple complained then conceded
On a compromise which comprised of all the things left unspoken,
While comprehension and codependence due to run rampant.
You set the bridge on fire, burning away all of our connections
You are the most calculating arsonist looking back in reflections
You might as well have staked my heart like vampire rejections
You dragged me in like smack spoon fed with sweet cooked injections
I, no more than a self-proclaimed codependence need for interjections
I was lucky enough to get away from your endless contradictions
This poem
is about
how much
I adore
my sister
and the
pot brownies
I’m in
trouble for
and how
they are
related for I
have an
unhealthy
obsession
with one and
unhealthy
Codependence
with the
other but
for some
reason I
crave them
both and
how they
make me
feel like
I am who
I am and
that is
okay and
the burning
in my lungs
when I
breathe them
both out.
Right now
my lungs
feel open
and so does
my heart,
but my
sister is
leaving in
2 days and
I’m too
dependant on
weed to
want a
whole lot
of anything
else and all
I have any
right to do
is breathe.
If poetry were a man
And he would be a man
As he exhibits all the symptoms of the most haunting members of that sex
On the one hand, a near-crippling arrogance, yet balanced by great likeability
He dons black vintage t-shirts and a bomber jacket
A girl in a red halter lights his cigarette
He drinks espresso as lesser men drink water
And the night, the beautiful night, is his.
With us, his poets, he intrudes with a strange codependence
And we respond with ready affinity
His favorite time to visit is 3 am
Drunk, of course.
We make the coffee
And as he sobers, he tells the most wonderful stories
As we wait, pen in hand.
Being with you is an emotional roller coaster …instability
You circulate my emotions from the heights to the dungeon
my guards are down I own the humility
You are the destroyer of my being, my soul sponge
Being in love with you is my only addiction
Escapades of the heart is uncontrollable
Possessiveness, jealousy, fear of rejection
It’s false evidence, a delusion, complete fiction
I sacrificed everything, now my life takes precedence
Involuntary passion is not consolable
Good bye codependence; hello independence
You love me and then leave me alone
Loving you is not good for me, it’s recklessly wrong
It’s Dysfunctional!!
©2014
finding a depth in the
vulnerable person
standing before him---
a hole he feels needs filling
by someone compassionate,
by someone who would just
listen,
he moves closer to her &
offers his hand in help,
he offers his heart in hope that
what he feels to be his own
deficiencies & idiosyncrasies,
will somehow mesh with hers
as if the rescue itself would ensure it---
and for a while her surrender is one
that creates a new place for the both of them,
a context that neither of them needs
in order to promote personal growth &
independence---
nevertheless, the codependence that has
bloomed,
eats at the both of them,
if for any better reason than that they are no longer
the vulnerable individuals that they once were &
because the present situation has become
frustrating at best,
sleepless, paranoid eyes
begin to look around for blame,
inevitably taking them both back to
the moment when the rescue
began.
she & she or
she & he or
he & he or
locked in a cage
like birds with clipped wings
staring through the bars out at the sunlight making its way over the back of the early morning mountains
with a cool breeze blowing through their hair
wondering just where it went wrong
staring one another in the eyes
coming to the realization simultaneously that
“this misery is ours alone”---
the codependence that reigns supreme
adjoining the two at the hip
sacrifices what little dreams they might have had independently of one another
for the bucket list bull*****disguised as
harmony &
the seasoned pipe dreams of teenage love of which
they are a long long way from the sound of the
starting gun,
but alas, the most pessimistic of onlookers may claim that
what’s done is done &
therefore, what hope is left remains in the
silence of death which will bring one the peace of
ceasing to be & the other
the peace of ceasing to be attached to
a sinking weight
when still trying to at least tread water in the middle of a vast
deep
ocean.
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.