Ammaar Butt

Ammaar Butt Poems

I wrote 'I love you'
On the note I found in the drawer of your bedside table,
I wrote and I hid it under your white pillow revealing a small part of it.
So that you could find it.
...

I could not feel my legs.
Tears dropping from my eyes,
My heart pounding against my chest.
...

My Father.

Abba, was a strong, religious man.
Who not only believed in God but also loved him.
...

The Best Poem Of Ammaar Butt

'A Note'

I wrote 'I love you'
On the note I found in the drawer of your bedside table,
I wrote and I hid it under your white pillow revealing a small part of it.
So that you could find it.

I love you.

As my ears beg for your voice,
My cheek bones beg for your palms to touch,
My neck begs for your strong fingers to wrap around.
My body begs for you to worship.

I love you.

Since the day I saw you,
Your eyes, as majestic as the lilac sky.
Your hands, pink and perfect.
Like something ethereal and holy.
Your voice, forcing me to fall on my knees and thank you for being here.

For I swear to the God I believe in, that I had witnessed nothing so perfect.

I love you.

And all your forms.
The anger you keep inside you.
The tender joy that sparkles your eyes.

I love you.

For I still don't know how to love you off paper,
For I don't know how would it be if my words weren't written with ink but were slapped across your face with my tongue.
Designed like a white glove in thin air.
Like a syringe,
I could suck the life out of you.

But I don't.

I love you.

For as I leave you this note I kiss you goodbye.
I don't deserve the love you have to offer,
I don't deserve someone like you.
I am broken and alone.
My wings cannot be fixed,
And its time I move on.

And so I leave you to read my note when you wake up, as you rub your eyes before you tear them.

Just remember, that I wrote 'I Love you'.


And I will come back one day,
Will leave an unfold next to your tombstone,
I've written you poem.

I wrote you a new sky, one you can touch.
A garden full of your favorite lillies, roses, and tulips.
I wrote you a home.
One we, could live in.

For as hard as I try, I cannot let go of the ruins I carry.
The memories, follow me like hawks monitoring hallways,
waiting to attack when confronted.

But for now, I wait for God to do justice, to put my soul to ease.
Either let me love you again,
Or leave my notes unread.

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