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.
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.
In the warm spring air
as humid nights linger
Hands caress in silence
She revels in his tender stare
Barefoot they walk hand in hand
As nature's splendor surrounds
They drank heavily in their passion
consumed with love
But love's elixir ran too fast
Hot and heavy as the summer heat
Like a potion she thirst for more
Awaiting each day for his sensual touch
Passion fused always wanting more
Whatever he wanted she freely gave
She wanted more and he began to want less
They played willingly with fire
Riding high on desire
She was running hot
He became distant running cold
Chains of steel could not bind him
Her flames could not melt the ice
The cold autumn wind blew in
Took the fire from his soul
The summer love that once flowed like wine
Turned sour before the winters snow.
5/8/15
Copyright 2015 Phyllis Babcock
Relationships are special
Where break ups are rough.
The reasons you loved them
Become why you leave.
A special bond shared,
Destroyed from the roots.
You become haunted
By what you both shared.
Where once lay adoration
Turns to resentment
Of two souls who
Once promised each other the world.
You can’t hear your favourite song
Without thinking of them.
Every place that you go
Is tainted with their scent.
Dancing in the rain
Is now too intimate for you.
When the sky pours,
You no longer feel happy.
There’s the absence of clothes
In the other half of the cupboard.
Only your shoes
Sit in the doorway.
Your regular waitress
Hands you your coffee.
‘It’s on me,’
Said with pity.
The taste of your food
Is nothing but bland.
He took all the spices
That belonged in your kitchen.
The bookshelf is empty
And you don’t know why.
There’s only one book
But you were the reader.
It’s highlighted and marked,
With notes in the margins.
You’re donating it;
It hurts too much to read.
There’s no food in the fridge—
But that’s a lie.
There’s food in the fridge,
Just too much for you.
The milk is expired.
When last did you drink?
He was the coffee person
Every morning at six.
You stare at your phone
With an unintended hope.
It's not going to ring;
He won't be calling again.
You tear off the poems
Lining your bedroom walls.
Toss out clothes
You have no reason to wear.
(They’re too big anyway.)
Your hair is too short.
Bob to your chin.
It makes you look old
And the blond doesn’t help.
Your roots are showing,
But you can’t wait.
You just want to dye it.
It wasn’t a look you wanted.
You find your face wet,
Lay in the cold of the bed.
You’re alone
And nothing will ever be the same.
Inspired by 'Cut my hair hair' by Mico.
On the sandy knoll he stands, a solitary, forlorn figure gazing at the sky. It’s a clear night, and hundreds of stars shimmer like fireflies pinned to the firmament. His eyes fix on one of them, a twinkling pinpoint near the center that seems to give off a faint amber glow. Looking at it distractedly, he wonders what star it is, which galaxy, how many light years away. He has been mired in a persistent gloom brought on by a bad breakup which life in general has done little to lift, and in his pensiveness, he yearns to be where he is not.
Stars congregating
A salve of reticent lights
Melancholy vaults
He imagines not only life but a much more advanced civilization on the amber star (the distinction between a star and a planet he’s in no mood to dwell on), an unknown utopia in the wilderness of space where unhappiness has been bred out of the entire race, and where there’s no war, no loss, no hate, no love, just a perpetual lightness of being maintained by wisdom and moored to omnipotent technology. He wishes he could leave everything behind, and go far, far away to that beckoning star.
Soul with starry eyes
Thoughts retreat into night sky
Fantasy of flight
The star he’s gazing at is in fact not a star, but a planet in a spiral galaxy 4.5 million light years away, which would not be visible to his naked eye if it weren't for the light from over 5,000 near-simultaneous explosions that have obliterated civilization there in a nuclear apocalypse. Before life was extinguished, the planet’s inhabitants called their galaxy the Milky Way, and the planet itself, Earth.
Man-made suns flashing
Perpetual night descends
Light flees into space
Inspired by the song “So Many Stars” by Sergio Mendes, Marilyn Bergman, Alan Bergman
She's not long been heartbroken,
a four year long romance,
all to be ended in an instance,
she thought there was no chance,
that the one she loved would hurt her,
its part of the devils dance.
it hurts to see her hurting,
i wanna take it away,
to transfer all of her pain to me,
god, i wish there was a way,
for me to remove that burden,
so she can enjoy her day.
Her eyes sparkle like stars,
her hair is perfect curls,
she has the brain of a genius,
her beauty rare as pearls,
she deserves the princess treatment,
but she likes the wrong girls.
It could be impossible,
It could all be in my head,
i cant help but think of scenario's,
repeating everything she's said,
but I cant confess my feelings right now,
so ill keep it to myself instead.
It kills me not to be hers,
and i wish she could be mine,
but she needs time to heal,
and i know she just needs time.
Ill wait for her to find herself,
and until then I guess "I'm fine".
I was wooing a shiksa named Trish
So I got her something delish
She wouldn't go for Gefilte fish
But she devoured Sam's deli Knish!
I told her that in married bliss
Every supper we could share a Knish
and she replied:
"I can't marry you unless you convert
I don't want to cause you this hurt
But I hail from the Bible Belt
Even a Knish can't make me melt."
Her rich Dad owns a fast food chain
If I let her go, I'd be insane
But I was offended, broke all ties
I had shot my arrows, no more tries.
In Alabama, a franchise has a new dish
It looks like fried chicken, it tastes like a Knish
So my breakup influenced Alabama cuisine
Its an unlucky wind that can't blow clean.
Noon. The sun has spurned the moon.
Heartbreak? No, it is too soon.
Breathless in sweltering June,
At a place lover's remnants are strewn.
Seasons. Come and go like he.
Strange feeling he never knew me.
With this he would disagree...
Has the sky never met the sea?
Noon. And trapped in the moment.
Heart dismiss mind's dissent.
Flowers waft overpowering scent.
Tell me where our future went.
Lost. Quite as in daydreams.
Lost amid dazzling sunbeams;
And caught between extremes.
Lakes hiss and give off steam.
No shadows. Who knows where they go?
The same region as rainbows?
Or to sweep the sky as crows,
With no thought of once ago?
A love story,
One she kept within her,
One she hid in the forgotten place,
One she buried in the ocean of her heart,
But coming out in her last days,
They were unearthed in her final days,
She told the stories of her love tangle,
Of days they walked through the woods,
Of days they strolled by the seashore,
Of days they sat underneath the autumn trees,
Of days he brought home those special gifts,
She glowed as she reminisced on those days,
I asked to know what caused the breakup,
She said things changed when they started having children,
Their worlds pulled apart and further apart,
Until they could no longer stand on common ground,
Their priorities were no longer entwined,
She shook her head as she talked about
all the troubles they put their children through,
The hurt and the aches of separation,
Her foolishness of not embracing all of them,
Of not standing up to her motherly role,
She said she didn’t want to be held down,
She said she wanted to spread her wings,
She said her nonchalance cost her,
Her callous attitude cost her dearly,
For she lost two of her children,
They fell into depression and couldn’t deal with their demons,
Tears streamed down her eyes as she recalled,
She said she was thankful for the love and care shown to her by her only child left,
She said she knows she can't repay her but will always pray for her,
This she consistently did,
Even till she passed on,
For she held her hand,
muttered some words and smiled as she breathed her last,
Her daughter nodded and smiled,
Tears streamed down her face.
August 26, 2022.
I didn’t want to light the flame,
But damn, you handed me the match.
We played a bitter little game—
Now neither one can scratch the scratch.
I offered peace, I begged, I tried,
You laughed and chose the sword instead.
So now the happy parts have died—
I burned the photos in my head.
The goal was never you or me,
It somehow morphed into “the win.”
A hollow crown for victory,
A throne of ash and spite and sin.
I killed myself to keep you out,
Destroyed the bridge, then danced alone.
A funeral march in one-man clout,
Applauding ghosts with broken bone.
I sacrificed the laughing days,
The warmth, the couch, the late-night talks.
Replaced it with this molten maze—
You brought the knives, I brought the locks.
So raise a glass to all we were,
Then smash it like I smashed our past.
This ain't revenge—it's just the blur
Of love gone nuclear at last.
I didn’t flinch—I struck the spark,
With gasoline and steady hand.
You screamed, but I preferred the dark—
I smiled while torching all we planned.
You thought I’d beg, crawl back, forgive?
I gutted “hope” and wore its skin.
You want a war? Then let’s not live—
I don't lose fights. I just cave in.
I saw the white flag in my grip,
But blood makes prettier décor.
Peace? Please. I’d rather let it rip—
Your silence begged me for a war.
Each happy thought, I carved apart,
A scalpel through our wedding song.
I nailed our love up like art—
Then laughed, ‘cause hell, it felt so wrong.
I cracked my mind to break your hold,
Poured bleach on every shared regret.
You turned my warmth to something cold—
So now you’re just a smoking threat.
You made me choose: your soul or mine.
I chose to burn us both alive.
This isn’t hate—it’s the design
Of someone done trying to survive.
So here we are, no love, no you.
No me, just echoes drenched in red.
The prize? A throne of shattered truth.
The cost? My last soft thought is dead.
It's surprising how youthful I feel
Though I'm aware it's not for real
In the mirror stands an aged biddy
My heart boom-a-bangs till I’m giddy.
There's some wrinkles starting to appear
On my face once so soft smooth and clear
Without makeup I’d surely breakup
If it’s a dream please let me wake up.
In days of youth I’d bonny brown haiir
Now it’s a silvery crown I wear
In mind is the youth I used to be
In the mirror it’s not me surely.
Foolish maybe, but the youth of old
Inspires my muse through the pen I hold
For when I’m penning my poetry
Youth’s my light of creativity.
In memory we're forever young
Though maybe the image is far-flung
O for those days of hunky-dory
In the splendour of youthful glory.
*+*+*+*
7th May 2023