Just a Hopeless Romantic
Just a Hopeless Romantic button poetry stories
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laurenelizabet3
laurenelizabet3 Community member
Autoplay OFF   •   7 months ago
I saw a handsome man at a bar and I'm pretty sure my heart stopped, like a scared teenager taking their first unprotected left turn.

Just a Hopeless Romantic

I saw a handsome man at a bar and I'm pretty sure my heart stopped,

like a scared teenager taking their first unprotected left turn.

He was a perfect stranger,

emphasis on perfect.

Maybe I'm just a hopeless romantic,

but the the idea of telling my children that I swiped right on their dad doesn't sit well with me,

like a restaurant you were so eager to try and the meal starts churning your stomach inside out,

something that feels like nourishment at first, yet turns to poison after time.

I saw this handsome man and our eyes latched for a second,

but I could already see myself in his arms.

Maybe I'm just a hopeless romantic,

but I still believe in love at first sight,

and falling in love at first shared laughter.

Serendipity must be alive and well somewhere.

Fate has dealt me awful hands before,

but I believe that they taught me how to be a better player,

make sure I don't let my hand bleed so someone else can win,

perfect my poker face for the man who will crack right through it.

Maybe I'm just a hopeless romantic,

but I want a man to look at me how my father looks at my mother,

watching a woman grow for over 30 years,

he still finds new flowers blooming on the garden of her face.

I still believe in men even though it doesn't seem like it,

I still believe my husband is a stranger out there waiting for me,

sitting in the same bar in a different city,

locking eyes with another woman and wondering if she is me.

Maybe I'm just a hopeless romantic,

but I will know if it's him by the way he tucks my hair behind my ears,

in the way he says my name,

the look on his face when I come towards him in, pajamas with tornado hair,

looking at me like my face is a garden too.

Doesn't care that my lips are rose red and mouth full of thorns.

I will know it's him when his arms feel like a lap bar instead of a cage.

When I'm not embarrassed to laugh my loud ass annoying cackle every time he makes me laugh,

when I watch him interact with a child and get a gut feeling he would make a great father,

when he says he's sorry because he can't keep apologies and my head on laying his chest at the same time,

when he says he wants a strong woman, and actually means it.

Maybe I'm just a hopeless romantic,

but I know my final love story will be beautiful.

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