I sound like a broken record
Turning over
I miss you
And I love you
Greatest hits of the century
My boomerang love
Comes back to me

I'm not really into the whole self pity thing
For the most part I handle my ****
But I'm sitting here and my legs won't stop shaking
I hate needing help

Pin my body against the earth
Iron blood dripping on my wrists
Skeleton of ivory temptation
Relinquish me of doubt
That you could find love
For another, more ancient than I
Kiss into ashy lips
Promises the stars ache to know
But could never dare to hold
Tell me of when the sky was young
Before I was known
When you were alone
When the dark was nameless, void
The light untouched by sound
When the aching began
For affection
Then I came
With the first sun
And you knew
How dark the dark had been
How there is light
When you have a friend
May you never again learn different

"love-sick"
I mean
I suppose love is a disease.

there are the symptoms,
the racing heart
constant thoughts,
and if your a writer
countless poems dedicated to them
or your love.

I suppose love is a disease
but if its you,
its not one I would mine
having.

your heart
breaks different
when it beats
alone

Hi all, as I've already said, this isn't a poem, however I think some of my lovely followers might be interested that I released my debut album 'Above the Trees' over the weekend. It features many of the poems I've written on here in its lyrics so I think it counts as postable! I'm rather proud of it. Anyway, if you're interested here's how you can listen:

Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/album/0MKy9TNQ6shPe86V4GLshH
Bandcamp: theidleowl.bandcamp.com
Others: It's everywhere, just search for 'The Idle Owl' on any streaming service etc and look for the 9 song album 'Above the Trees'.

As I'm no longer busy recording and mixing etc I'll be back on the poetry train. Yay. I'm excited.

Cheers,

The Idle Owl :)

love is not made of giving and taking in equal parts
it is not a favor for a favor
i owe you nothing

love is not a compromise reached after long deliberation
it is not hurting on Monday
and healing on Tuesday

love is not touching because you will leave if i do not
it is not feigning naivety
when you see me cry

love is not the untimely squandering of innocence
it is not the suffocating grip of guilt
it is not your unwelcome touch

love is not
love is not
love is not