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Love's Dark Reflection #lovepoetry #poetrydaily #poemaday

Love was never a heartbeat. It was the echo left behind after the heart forgot why it was still beating. It arrived wearing another person's face, its hands stitched together from promises that had already begun to rot. I welcomed it. Not because it was kind, but because loneliness knows how to mistake a wolf for warmth. Every smile it offered cast a longer shadow. Every whispered "forever" fed another ghost sleeping beneath my ribs. The thought of love is a clever liar. It builds cathedrals from broken mirrors, then asks us to kneel before our own reflections, calling the illusion destiny. How eagerly we obey. We water flowers that grow from graves, write poems to people who never truly existed, and embrace memories still unborn. Love watches. Silent. Patient. Like a spider waiting in the center of a web woven from hope. It never forces us inside. It simply lets us believe the silver threads are rays of morning light. By the time we understand, the sky has forgotten our ...
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Where Your Name Still Lives #freeverse #lovepoetry #poem

The thoughts of you,
I drown within them slowly,
like waves that never learned
how to let the shore rest.
They rise without warning,
pulling me under in silence,
where even breathing feels like remembering.

They come uninvited,
soft at first, then overwhelming,
carrying echoes of laughter
that no longer belongs to the present.
I hear you in the quiet,
in the spaces between seconds,
in the places I tried so hard to empty.

Memories of both of us
linger in quiet corners of my mind,
replaying moments
as if time refused to move forward.
Every glance, every word,
every touch we once held onto,
they remain untouched by forgetting.

Your name,
it does not fade,
it settles deep within my soul,
like something carved, not written.
I whisper it without sound,
feel it without meaning to,
as if my heart memorized you too well.

I try to forget,
I truly do,
but forgetting feels like betrayal
to something that once felt eternal.
How do I erase a feeling
that once felt like home?
How do I silence what still echoes within me?

So I deny the truth, 
wrap it in silence,
hide it beneath distractions,
pretend the absence does not ache.
I tell myself I’ve moved on,
that I’ve grown past the past,
but even lies grow tired of being repeated.

Because truth has a voice,
and it whispers in familiar places,
the streets we walked,
the air that once carried your presence.
It lingers in songs,
in passing faces,
in moments that should mean nothing, but don’t.

Where memories were made,
I now stand alone,
surrounded by ghosts
only my heart can see.
Every step feels heavier there,
like the ground remembers us
more clearly than I wish it did.

And still, somehow,
in all this quiet ruin,
you remain,
unforgotten,
unspoken,
undone.

Not as you were,
but as you left me,
a feeling that refuses to fade,
a story without an ending,
a name that still lives
where I once tried to let go.


© 2026 Gloria Penelope

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