Topic Tuesdays: Love/Relationships

26-Year-Old Liz Reacts to her Favorite Poem She Wrote to Date.

Our Life Through a Kaleidoscope

I’m in love with the way you look next to me.
You always grab a hold of my hand and kiss the palm of it like a
promise telling me I’ll always have you in the reach of a fingertip.
I’m in love with the long walks we take through Fort Greene Park as you
hug me from behind and continue to walk down the bumpy path while we
take breaks to sit on fallen tree trunks and talk;

I love that we talk.
And talk.
And talk.

I love how we can talk for hours:
on the phone whenever I ask you to come over because I’m terribly upset,
The midnight conversations on video chat until the sun comes up to tell us to finally get some rest,
and even the slightest moment before we make love to each other;
We are always talking to each other.

I love that you are the epitome of sex appeal.
I love staring at your heart-shaped lips whenever you bite them with your teeth,
I love how you say my name in your sexiest voice, even if you don’t have to do much to make it sexy,
I love the way you smell like Vanilla even if your skin is the perfect chocolate tone,
you make my teeth hurt just by walking my way,
my goodness, you make yourself edible.
I love how you taste when we kiss;

I love the way you passionately kiss me.

I love how your kisses always feel like fireworks over the beach in Coney Island,
how they leave me dizzy like a Cyclone but somehow I never get sick of them.
I love the slight moment after we kiss where we are against each other’s noses just looking into each other’s eyes,
I love the way your eyes look at me, even when you do something completely stupid,
I love that we can fight
and fight
and fight
and be mad at each other for a while and come back like nothing ever happened,

I love how forgiving your heart is.

I’m in love with your forgiveness after the many “I’m sorry” sentences that came out of me like a broken record,
And for the record, I love how you have been the only person who truly understands my mind,
especially during the times late at night, I’m hysterically crying because I’m just lonely,
when everyone else thinks I’ve gone crazy.

I love that you are crazy with me.

I love how much we have in common,
You’re like the family that never understood me,
the bedroom that I never had to run away to whenever I needed some privacy,
I love that you were my place to run to;

I love how you feel like home.

The hugs that would caress my body and shelter me better than any house I ever lived in,
The laugh that should’ve won a Grammy because it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard,
The way you protect me from the robbers trying to steal my heart away from you,
I still love
the sacrifice you made to even be here so that I knew what it felt like to finally be home instead
of wrecking everyone else’s.

I’m in love with your words.
I’m in love with the feel of your existence,

But I am not in love with you.


This was the last poem I ever posted on Facebook, and it was the last poem that I wrote in a long while for personal reasons.

This poem, in particular, is one of my favorites because it perfectly described a moment in my life where I was in love with the gestures of lovers but really had to question if I was in love with them. This was written during a weird time in my life, in the midst of everything happened in my life, all in everything with emotion and feelings. 

After 7 years, this poem truly still relates to me in the present day.

I’m still trying to learn the difference between loving someone versus being in love with someone and which one truly coincides with romance. Did I just love these people because they were unique, interesting, different? Did I just love the aura of romance I had with these people? Despite everything, was I in love with them? Yeah, I was. 

This poem was about a love I had that I was trying to let go because it was hurting me more than it felt good. I’m a hopeless romantic, and the gestures of love are one of my many weaknesses, even if there were times I was heartbroken and hurt by this person. I still had mad love for this person, but I wasn’t in love with them anymore, and this poem was one of the first poems I wrote that pretty much let me start this journey of letting go because I needed to love me more than I loved this person.

The same applies to what I’m currently going through.

That even though it’s been a half a year things ended in my last relationship, I still have a hard time letting go of the gestures of love that were shown in that relationship. I could still love the person for them, but I can’t be in love with them or else I’ll never be able to move on, and that is going to take more than 6 months to try to work out with myself.

I called it “Our Life Through a Kaleidoscope” because of my life and romantic was never clear enough. It was never a clear image of how love was supposed to look like, how the romance was supposed to feel like; it was just something I truly never had a glimpse of, but it was still pretty to look at. 

Sometimes, that’s the thing about love: when you’re in them and when you portray this image to the outside world, it looks pretty, shiny, something you want for yourself, not ever knowing that behind close doors or the truth of it all is that the love that you admire so much or are afraid of losing is not real or obtainable as well as you thought.

19-Year-Old Liz was a true ass poet, y’all.

hand endnote

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