Home » Poems » Best » Hayden Kirkpatrick » Best Hayden Kirkpatrick Poems

Best Poems Written by Hayden Kirkpatrick

Below are the all-time best Hayden Kirkpatrick poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Hayden Kirkpatrick Poem

To love someone who no longer loves you is the cruelest trick played by the world. I didn’t know you wanted me that way, I thought you only cared for my body, so I found another who seemed to want a connection. I should’ve told you then how I love you so, I wish I had known you felt the same. My best friend, my love, the only one to make me feel understood, I am so deeply sorry for not taking a chance sooner. A friend told me after you disappeared that you loved me, and my eyes welled with silent tears. I had loved you for so long, believing that you couldn’t love me too. Now you’ve found another, someone who brings you joy. She’s so beautiful, she’s the one you want, her kind eyes are softer, more loving than mine. Losing in love, in life, in joy, it drains you and takes your light away from you. I long to be the one you want, someone you adore, but I don’t deserve that anymore. I didn’t ask how you felt, not in the way I wanted to, and went to the arms of another, not knowing what I was losing. I’ve loved you for a year now, you’ve never once left my mind, my heart, my very soul. The poems, the stories, the darkness you inspired, I poured them all on pages, desperately trying to rid myself of them. My love, I am truly forever yours, even if I’m far. Even if we are separated, even though you are no longer mine. My hand will always reach for yours, you’ve forever changed me, and not a single soul could ever be you. I’m sorry for the way I left you, I’m sorry for being naive, and most of all for ignoring your light.

Details | Hayden Kirkpatrick Poem

Insight, a Soliloquy

Insight must be difficult for you when you’re wounded so easily. You can’t show it, of course, to show your scars and flaws would be considered weak to you, since they can be used against you. So you hide and twist words and speak with blame and hatred. Do not show them your hurt, show them that they are terrible and pass the blame, show them their own fangs, all while hiding yours. You can’t be broken, you can’t be weak, so you become an empowered victim, one too strong and smart to be hurt, but one that is oppressed by those who ‘oppose’ you. You don’t run, or hide, or scream. Instead, you attack with words, guilt, and insecurities. Now I’ve already stopped trying to love you, for loving you burns and bites, leaving me shattered. I stopped loving myself, in hopes that instead you could love me like I should love myself. To be broken, but not beaten. To have it worse than most, but still not protected. I’d cry and scream for the dad I once knew. Not father, not your name, not ‘the guy who knocked up my mom three times’. You could just be dad again. Selfishly, I yearn for the times things were better for me, even though it was worse for my mom. I never saw her pain, but I heard it echo through the walls. I heard the fights, her tears, the crashes, even though she hid it all to keep us happy. Finally, once she called you out, she was free. She didn’t know that she was trading her freedom for ours. When you could no longer show her your true colors, you turned on her children, your children. I wish you were completely evil, some kind of monster, but you are not. You are charismatic and kind, but only when it benefits you, of course. You are always on your best behavior if we seem upset with you, for you are kind and giving, with a price. The more you give, the more I must give up. You do small things in order to guilt me into moving mental and emotional mountains for you. I used to try to be perfect for you, catering to your every whim and fancy, but it still wasn’t enough. So I gave up on myself, and for years I caved into the fact that I would never be enough, that my own father couldn’t bring himself to love me. Finally, I’ve decided to give up on you instead. You are not my dad, and even though I miss my dad more than anything, I can’t keep waiting to see him again. I can’t call CPS, I can’t run away, and I can’t get emancipated. However, I can learn to stop investing my heart and soul into you, into your hate, your blame, and your lies. Unfortunately, you are still around me on a regular basis. So for the next two years, I will pretend to love you, to adore you, and through gritted teeth I will shower you with praise, simply to feed your twisted sense of pride. Deep down, I will know the truth, that I don’t love you, that I’ve had to learn to hate you in order to love myself again. I know you think you love me, but you can’t see that you truly don’t. This is not love, this is narcissism. So goodnight, sweet dreams, ‘I love you’, and I’ll see you in the morning.

Details | Hayden Kirkpatrick Poem

In Love, a Soliloquy

My heart shatters with every harsh word, saddened glance, and argument. I can feel it being ripped from my body and thrown into the depths of my stomach. The only thing that ever heals it, is your love and kindness. I am forever grateful to you for every breath I take, every sight I get to see, and every ray of sunshine I feel on my skin. Nothing comforts me more than simply being in your arms, feeling not only your warmth, but your love. I adore you with every ounce of me, your smile, your laugh, your voice, everything. Every little thing that makes you yourself paints a beautiful masterpiece, the finest work of art I’ve ever seen. You inspire me in ways I never thought possible, my poetry, my songs, my stories, my voice, and my very heart and soul are inspired by you. Although I may pour my heart and soul into my writing, it will never compare to the majesty of the masterpiece you have created by being yourself. It saddens me that, like every great artist, you are unable to see the beauty of the things you’ve created in their purest form. In light of this, I am ready to spend the rest of my life showing you your own glory. If it takes a day, or a hundred years, I will make it my life’s work to do what I do best. I will write poem after poem, song after song, story after story, simply trying to articulate the very essence of your light.

Details | Hayden Kirkpatrick Poem

A Mother, a Soliloquy

The best compliment I have ever received is, “You’re going to be a wonderful mother one day.” I adore the idea of having children, treating them with love and kindness, nurturing and caring for them even when it’s hard. I daydream of dancing, playing, laughing, crying, and everything in between. In the very midst of this daydream, it crumbles. How could I possibly gift my children their own version of the hell I can never escape? I have no right to bring a human being into this world, simply to trap them in their own mind. The worst part of all of it, what truly hurts most, is that it’s personalized. Day after day, my brain attacks me, pointing out my flaws and insecurities, pouring salt in my wounds, and twisting the knives that are stuck in my throat, stomach, and back. My only hope is to be good enough to help them cope with their nightmares, all while struggling with my own. My mother is kind and sweet, with a heart of solid gold. I wonder how I could possibly compare, she helps me through my hell, but not while struggling through her own. Of course she has struggles, she has persevered through so much, but her mind is not her enemy. She is not overwhelmed by internal hatred, tearing at her hope and joy with every cut and scrape. If I myself am corrupt, how can I expect to provide my children the life they deserve? To live a life of simple, neurotypical bliss, without the confusion and suffering of a cage that you have built yourself. I used to love being different, and I still do, but this world is not built to allow the bold and unique thrive. This world has been built for those who can fall in line, who can blend in and bite their tongues. How I wish for a life where I can stay silent, but I simply can’t. I was born and built to fight, to sing, to be loud, to cause trouble. My children will be blessed with being different from their peers, but this world has made it into a curse. Those who dare to be different are scorned, not simply for being different, but for somehow doing it wrong. You have to be unique, but only in the way everyone else wants. I couldn’t bear to watch my children be outcasts, I couldn’t bear to bring them into this world of hatred. Although I long to be a mother, even though I dream of building a family, deep down I know that I am my own curse.

Details | Hayden Kirkpatrick Poem

Beautiful Eyes

Beautiful eyes
Tell vicious lies
In the middle of a storm
I’m not surprised
I haven’t cried
Searching for your warmth

I love you
But who knew
You didn’t feel the same
Did you love me too
Or was I just new?
Your favorite little game

A brand new toy
For you to enjoy
My light died within me
I fell for a boy
It was me he destroyed
Forever lost in a daydream

Details | Hayden Kirkpatrick Poem

Not My Own

I am not my own
Maybe I never was
But now I’m simply alone

I’m worthless
Hiding in my mind
With no one to impress
Why can’t I be mine?

No one close but evil eyes
Praying on my downfall
No matter what, they ignore my cries
Watching as I crumble

Details | Hayden Kirkpatrick Poem

Always

Always the cheerleader
Never the star player
Always the sanctuary
Never fully safe
Always a poet
Never a poem
Always a romantic
Never ‘the one’
Always smiling
Never at peace
Always sleeping
Never fully rested
Always trying
Never enough
Always an option
Never a favorite
Always a friend to all
Never had a true friend 
Always hating myself
Never truly hating others
Always here to stay
Never been stayed for
Always begging for empathy
Never understood
Always terrified
Never calm
Always pretty or hot
Never beautiful
Always loving
Never loved

Best Poems Written by Hayden Kirkpatrick

Just Try, a Soliloquy

Unrequited Love, a Soliloquy

Insight, a Soliloquy

In Love, a Soliloquy

A Mother, a Soliloquy

Beautiful Eyes

Not My Own

Always