Long Breakup Poems
Long Breakup Poems. Below are the most popular long Breakup by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Breakup poems by poem length and keyword.
THE GIRLFRIEND OF MY FRIEND
Saturday noon I drove my car to her house.
Seeing the doors open my eyebrows were all aroused.
I began to curse Jai who told me
“Samit look after my girlfriend while I’m out of town”
Damn it! Now all my weekend plan are drown.
I saw the first sight of Natasha.
She was sitting on her sofa with her legs crossed.
And a pretty little mole near the thigh exposed
Her skin was like a cream from orchids of Vanilla.
Lips that can drive madness spree in any fella.
“Hello there! When did u arrive?” mouthed she.
“Come down and help me with my sandal” asked she.
I took her softish feet in my crude hands
And haul them inside the sandal where they melt.
“Let’s go”, she stood up and said in a shot.
I followed her to my car with her range goddamn hot.
I stopped the car at the Curries restaurant.
But her thoughts in my mind still drew.
With the getting to know chit chat, yea, oh, hmm…
I thought I’m getting her bored.
She’s a kind of girl who let me down as I feel fool.
With the cool girl as that I wish I had tricks bag full.
Dropping her late night I asked if she had the good time.
With eyes looking at sandal she said that made me wakeup,
“Your friend shows he has move on after the breakup
But still didn’t forget to send the gift on my special day
Give my thanks and say the sandals are not my size”
She muttered after a teardrop rolled from her eyes.
So I’m texting you Jai…not to make her shoe size settle
But urging you to go back to make her every day SPECIAL.
-By Kunal Rathod
If the relationship ends here let it end
No matter how beautiful the watch if it has lost battery
It's worth zero, there is beauty but waiting it's useless
The relationship that wants to end don't hold it on
No matter how long or deep the relationship is
It is better to end it up necessarily
Without battery, the clock cannot give the correct time
It's not much possible to sort out anyway
If you hold the ending relationship with negotiation
It is possible to last two days or two months, not more
It is more beautiful than seeing your face in a broken mirror
It is better to be alone than to love person not loving you no more
In a relationship with the mentality of leaving
One who wants to go once he will go
Let it be today or tomorrow he will go
You just have to start practicing adjusting things.
No walls beat; it is the heart within my own chest.
Turn the key; open wide; you look a bit distressed.
The pulse inside my own chest, a throbbing mess.
Pick it up; won’t you massage it with finesse?
Your lips are red and trembling dear; say something.
Something seems to be amiss from your wan coloring.
Surely you recall when you broke it; I saved it,
Just so we might stroll heart to heart into the pit.
Dear, don’t look so dully afraid; turn the music key;
It’s our song. You don’t recall our breakup melody?
I know the heart looks cruelly bruised and irregular;
for a regular guy who’s tender, isn’t it spectacular?
I know you’d curse, if your lips weren’t burning blue.
Poor baby, it gets worse, you’re invited to a barbeque.
Marcus left, but he couldn't just walk away. He had to stop and flash a picture of his "beautiful wife" like a trophy, a deliberate jab meant to draw blood. I stood there, paralyzed for a second by the sheer audacity of it, but I kept my mouth shut. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing me crumble.
I tried to tell myself it was just Marcus being Marcus—the drifter, the man who can’t stay still, always moving on to the next thing. But I knew better. This wasn't about her; it was about us. It was a calculated, pathetic attempt to spark a flame of jealousy in me.
What a nasty, hollow piece of work he is. But beneath the disgust, I saw the truth: he’s still completely in love with me. He’s so desperate to hide that lingering ache that he’d use his own marriage as a weapon to hurt me. I almost pity him—a man so small he has to play games just to see if I still care.
He even blew me a kiss from the doorway, flashing that same old smirk as if he hadn't just tried to drive a stake through my heart.
" He’s still deeply in love with me, and he’s terrified of it. So, he acts like his usual charming self, blowing kisses while trying to drown me in jealousy. What a nasty, transparent piece of work.
He ran, he raced, he got up and fled,
He sped from the thoughts in his mind,
He had to escape from his tormented world,
Evading the things he would find,
From the demon herself living deep in his head,
From her beautifully horrible voice,
From her words filled with honey covered rational views,
He was the one with a choice,
To stay and give air to these eyes that were dead,
Give time to what he knew was untrue,
Or to run and escape the clutch of fake real,
And become happy and better and new,
Yes, he outran those demonic words in his head,
The negative committee no longer hounds,
Now he walks with honest and healthy good thoughts,
His mind is now healthy and proud.
“Come here”
You said, gesturing to the sunset.
I climbed up beside you, my legs dangling over the edge of the railing.
My breath sped up as you put your hand on my back
The thumping of my heart was felt all the way in my ears
I relaxed into your touch
just enough
for you to have complete control
I exhaled a sigh of relief,
for I had gotten what I’d always wanted
The sigh turned into a gentle breeze
And in that moment, I was falling
There were no butterflies
There were no sparks
Just your hand
On my back
Resting heavier and heavier
Until you gave me a push
And suddenly, I was falling
Not into your arms
But onto the
cold.
hard.
ground.
I’ve long since been gone but now I wish to return, if you’ll let me. I was down the thorny path, in the woodchipper, stuck in time, dancing into deed. It’s no match, a man with a curse vs a man with a heart. Its ten to zero, ones not even fighting. We’ve seen the underbelly of the storm cloud, flashing with scowling bolts of canary yellow. Cried onto the flat pale of the earth. So that the ponds and lakes filled like eyes trying to sting away tears. Mothers and fathers have seen tougher times. You’ve toughed out the times, but I've looked the other way. I still want to hold you until the mourning doves set the stage for the sun. We can watch a movie together and forget that it’s on. There will be peace. When it’s all said and done there won’t even be a hatchet.
As your memories fade,
I also want to shed
those moments from my mind
which I cannot regain.
Why do I hurt myself again?
Why to carry this pain?
If you cannot be mine,
then why should I confine
memories that only give me numb pain?
If you can live without me,
why should I not let those memories flee
to the unknown,
from where they can't find a way again on their own
and can't make a habitat in my mind again?
Tell me, if you are living happily without me,
why are your memories causing such pain?
Oh Almighty, hold me one more time,
give me strength.
Wipe away all those painful moments from my mind
that are causing strain.
If he cannot be mine,
then why should I carry such pain?
Everyone’s getting covid. It’s become serious.
And pretty much everyone here is triple vaxxed.
1 in 17 at Yale have it now. One of my roommates got it.
I’m hoping I get it - if I get it - before finals.
‘cause I doubt Yale professors would give extensions.
“You’re dying? Did you not read the syllabus? NO extensions”
“What were you like as a kid?“ He asked.
Umm, “naïve..,” “boyish.. obsessive.” I answered, thoughtfully.
And how would you describe yourself now? He follows-up.
Umm, “less naïve..” “boyish.. obsessive.,” we laughed.
2006: Taylor Swift releases her first album. I was three years old.
I grew up with her - every breakup, every turns-out-gay boyfriend.
She’s brilliant - don’t get me wrong - no doubt in the universe,
but she’s not the underdog any more - not an outsider - she’s FAB rich,
royalty, no, better than royalty. And she has the Taylor army.
Why is she always threatening physical violence?
Taylor is gay and straight, she’s republican, rageful, erotic and complex.
And I want to believe she actually ran someone down aka a Gatsby
She’s the Alexander Pope of our generation.
I’m just questioning the Taylor Swift breakup-industrial-complex.
Is Pete Davidson hot? I can’t decide.
He looks sort of gangly and awkward.
He’s dating Kim Kardashian.
I mean it’s not like Kanye is hot.
She’s obviously not looking for THAT.
I couldn’t sleep. I was lying in bed watching the patterns reflected moonlight made on my ceiling when I heard the faint beep of the kitchen microwave. I smelled popcorn.
I decided to fill up my water bottle and see who was up. I slipped on a thick, terrycloth robe I’d gotten from Lisa last Christmas. It must weigh 15 pounds and it’s so warm and heavy I seldom wear it.
I silently glided into the main room. Leong was standing at one of our two large picture windows staring out at the night. Her left arm cradling a bowl of ultimate-butter popcorn. Anna told me last night that Leong and her long-time boyfriend, who’s back in China, had broken up. They’d been together forever and had been expected to marry.
A bright half-moon was hanging high over campus, an electric ornament on a velvet background, its moonlight glint painted the world, like ice on mountaintops.
“I heard about your breakup,” I said, “what does it mean?” In Leong’s world, who you dated was of family interest. That person had to be approved, their bona fides proven - they had to fit into some long term plan.
“It means I can’t be tamed,” she said, with soft bravado. After a moment, she spoke again, more seriously. “It’s better this way - for now - someday..,” she trailed off.
I understood. All of our hopes are resting on someday, like so many wagers at a casino. I imagined some gambler, stepping up to a betting window, in an old black-and-white movie, saying, ”Gimmie 5 bucks on Someday to win.”
Something in her voice, a brittleness, precluded further questions. I looked at the clock, it read 3:47. I gave her a hug and yawning, filled up my water bottle from the refrigerator's filtered tap.
“See ya.” I whispered and headed off, back to bed. With any luck I could squeeze another hour's sleep out of the morning.