Poetry

Real Love (Not the Stuff They Tell You)

Another poem I came across when looking through my old high school notebooks. I think when I wrote this, Twilight was really popular. I read all the books (like every other teen girl at the time) and loved them. But once I was finished… well, I kind of realized they were… to put it nicely, not great. And I actually remember getting really mad about how popular they were when they were actually kind of glorifying an over-dramatized and even unhealthy relationship. At the same time, I also had my first boyfriend. (Now my husband.) So… yeah… it’s easy to see where the inspiration for this poem came from. But since this is the month of love, it still felt appropriate to share it. Prepare yourself for angry teen Sarah in three… two… one!

I tiptoe at the door of Love

To listen to soft stories,

But I’ve seen enough of this mistress

To understand her glories.

I see girls fawn for sex and appeal;

They are but wolves to me.

They think love is made of tears–

Of iron bars and misery.

Love may be fortified with strife,

But never build upon desire.

Smiles are what fuel my flames–

Lust burns within their fires.

Their love is dressed with perfection–

What a useless flaw!

To be serious throughout the years

Is a wound too deep and raw.

Love is made of laughter–

From a joke, a kiss, a tease–

It’s made from things that can’t be seen

That set restless hearts at ease.

They speak of love with sickly tales–

I’ll only shake my head.

Love to them is lost,

And love in fame is dead.

Let me keep my glowing love

Like the embers of a fire–

Not the flames that crackle–

Embers lack a fool’s desire.

Keep obsession in your hearts

And speak of fireworks and gems–

I’ve found my haven in this world;

I’ve found my place with him.

And though I’m only at the keyhole

Of Love’s most stately inn,

I shall keep my own love pure

Despite the world’s most deathly spins.

Copyright Sarah Davidson 2021

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