Top Poetry Love Quotes

I build boxesand place them at your feet,to measure the distance between dreams and reality.

Bridge burned from end to end,and I don't miss you anymore.You delivered silenceI've birthed freedom.

I balance you on the end of my pen.Teetering between loveand letting go.

Why do I love poetry? It's more than word play, less about the pay. Let's just say that for the first time in a long while I stopped running, stared back at my darkest worst and said, 'Come here, you...

I've never seen beauty so devastatingas in the linesthat trace our hopeand fall from the stars.

Through windows,in wishing wells,whispering in the wind...that's where I find you.

Steep fall to the groundshatteringlike clay pigeons missed by bad shotsand unsteady hands.

we met one strange summerin a regular tangle of sticky websyou had the air of angels sweet but I--drowned with the damned spiritsin lava oceans fearing your--foreign static frequency and grey-green ey...

I bleed to un-break you,un-mending me.I fall to save you...now who will save me.

Birthing hope from the madnessthat perches on the fenceof our once perfectdreams.

I need to work on me.The mewithout you.

Broken.As I search for hope,In the same eyesI lost it.

In that wounded place,buried betweenmy ribs and letting go,I miss you.

Written soul is called poetry

And while she was fire,So fierce and so wild,I could only hope to be for her;The forests and the winds to carry her flame.

I heard the breeze whisper your name to the trees. And the flowers giggled smiling at the leaves. I and my loneliness keep talking about you.

The day came when she discovered sex, sensuality, and literature; she said, 'I submit! Let my life be henceforth ruled by poetry. Let me reign as the queen of my dreams until I become nothing less tha...

My Love wakes in a puddle of sunlight.Her hands asleep beside her.Her hair draped on the lawnlike a mantle of cloth.I give her my lifefor our love is wholeI sing her beauty in my soul.

It is kind of ridiculous that a poet is expected to live in the real world.

A single poemis worth a hundredcozy winter nightskind wordsand healed wounds.