Sick of Poison Ivy

I don’t even want to write this poem, I am so annoyed right now

I can’t even think of what to write! I feel so stupid

You know what really annoys me?

The fact that if I scroll into my archives I know I will see other poems talking about this same thing!

A poem will say “I loved you with everything and you ripped me apart”

Another one will say “I am stupid to think love exists”

And here is the climax! “I will never love again”

So why am I here? Why is it that I am at the very same place I was last month?

Looking for devices to explain to you that I made that same stupid mistake again

And even on this beautiful sheet of paper my words only intend to soil such beauty with words of hate!

Because I think that is it! I hate that I can’t love someone and for once just be OK all the time

Haven’t we all been hurt before? so doesn’t that mean we should be able to love each other knowing what  the risks could be if we don’t?

I am so mad and I still can’t figure out how to start this poem!

Why even write a poem about someone who doesn’t even appreciate poetry?

Who am I really venting to?

Don’t tell me I’ve loved the wrong persons but Lord knows I have tried

What is love to me? right now at this moment? Love is…….

That beautiful flower you see in the forest and you just have to touch it, by the time you have been seduced by its glow you would have already been poisoned by its touch or pieced by its thorns.

Love is like poison Ivy

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