look,
sometimes i sit at the edge of the highway and watch the cars pass by faster and faster until the headlights blur into an endless stream of light and motion. into something i can lose myself in to forget the feeling of you beside me. to forget when i turned up the radio, stood up with my head out the sunroof and sang as loud as i could to drown out the sound of your broken-down engine and the desperate silence between us. to forget how you sighed and said, "aanika, please just put on your seatbelt. you're going to end up dead."
i never told you, but honestly,
that would have been okay.
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look,
love is not fireworks. love is not a story waiting for an ending. love is not what car you drive or how many texts you send me. love is not you holding me only because i am high and shaking. love is not making someone cry unless they are tears of happiness. love is not writing letters to yourself because no one else will. love is not wishing you would love me. love is not you touching me in dark basements or under tables. love is not a math equation. love is not the man who knew i was sixteen and would not stop. love is not glitter that looks like melting snow. love is not you sleeping beside me when i'm drunk because no one else will. love is not a falling star but it is sometimes holding someone while they fall apart.
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look,
insanity is defined as doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result. you said that to me one night, after i told you that the reason i did so many of the things that i did was just because i wanted to feel alive. to feel happy.
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look,
i've given up on defining love. all i know now are pointless statistics. my waist is twenty-three inches. my heart beats sixty-three times per minute when i'm sad. there is one year between my lips and yours.
i'm tired of counting distances, calories and the number of days left until i'm happy but i still do, hoping one day i will find a number that's low enough to make you love me.
Author notes
i think i used to be happy.
i am yours.
Comments
1 - 17 of 17
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"i've given up on defining love. all i know now are pointless statistics. my waist is twenty-three inches. my heart beats sixty-three times per minute when i'm sad. there is one year between my lips and yours."
that's my favorite part, <3
beautiful poem. i can feel the emotion. you make me feel.
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True love is never an easy thing for anyone to settle into and the loss of that love is even harder. Your prose is stunning and lends to the reader a reality all to well know. Sometimes we simply cannot fix that which is broken. If indeed we find that the pieces fit together, the glue usually does not hold. You are young and beautiful and the right person is right there waiting for you to let go of the past and venture forward. There is hurt here, pain, and the raw reality of an unrequited love. Be strong little sister and move forward.
Much Love & Respect ♥
Renee
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"i've given up on defining love. all i know now are pointless statistics. my waist is twenty-three inches. my heart beats sixty-three times per minute when i'm sad. there is one year between my lips and yours.
i'm tired of counting distances, calories and the number of days left until i'm happy but i still do, hoping one day i will find a number that's low enough to make you love me."
i love you aanika<3
you make me want to cry and sing at the same time.
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this is so great, aanika. its like a punch in the heart at the end. really, it makes me sink.
all of your writing is brilliant.
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Amazing
This poem, from it's form, to the emotions, to the detail, everything is very strong and deep. You are an amazing writer. That need to forget, or to understand what love is, or to find a reason to be happy, is so strong. This poem actually reminds me of someone I know. A lot of the lines match their life exactly right now. But I think you'll both pull through, and find a reason.
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Another brilliant piece of prose! The section "Love is not fireworks" is really quite exceptional. Your prose could wring tears out of solid granite... ineffably sad write... and once more I hope that at least some of it is not true... (I'm wondering if you would stop writing if you find happiness.... I hope we find out, one way or the other, very soon!!)
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wow!
insanity is defined as doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result - i can so relate to this line
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This is just stunning. I loved "there is one year between my lips and yours."
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look,
i've given up on defining love. all i know now are pointless statistics. my waist is twenty-three inches. my heart beats sixty-three times per minute when i'm sad. there is one year between my lips and yours.
Great stanza. Loved that last line in it especially. I wish you didn't have to go through these things, still I know the comfort, even if it's small, that poetry can provide, like an outlet. I hope it helps you too.
LovenLyrics -
this just hurts.
the last two stanza's were just so so stunning. the love paragraph- fucking hurt so bad- because its so damn true and accurate and amazing. and right.
i wish you didn't hurt like this, or that i could fix it
writingfree -
"sometimes i sit at the edge of the highway and watch the cars pass by faster and faster until the headlights blur into an endless stream of light and motion. into something i can lose myself in to forget the feeling of you beside me."
I know what this feels like, when you just want to do anything and everything in your power to simply. forget. forever.
Everything you said about love is so true. It's none of those things, it's more.
The definition of insanity is subjective, just like love and beauty and perfection.
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i think your authors notes hurt the most.
but it's hard to tell.
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I liked the repitition of look in this poem. But my favorite stanza is the last one.
"Hoping one day i will find a number that'slow enough to make you love me." is my favorite line. This is such a beautiful poem, and it's just so full of power and emotion and pain and torture and yet so full of love that it brings tears to my eyes like all of your poems do.
Great job aanika, and I'm glad that your muse is back again!
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I can't tell you something that you won't believe because I think I'd feel bad.
but I'll tell you that you're beautiful and goddamn, I see that you hurt explicitly and fuck, I'd change it if I could.
and I'll tell you that you're talented and that I know how you feel, I do, I do.
and I would also change that.
and this is pretty.
it is.
pretty in a disgusting way, if you feel me.
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damn this is like a pinpoint on how i feel right now. This is so amazing. I could never write how I feel in a way like you just did. I'm not even exaggerating every single day when I walk back from lunch I wish on the clock that says 11:11 to just be happy. Your words are so beautifully painful...and i mean that in the best way possible.
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this is gorgeous.
my favourite stanzas were the first and fourth.
aanika, you have a way with words that make me want to pull the pain out of you and throw it all away.
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my favorite part is the third stanza.
this is beautiful <3
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