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Alex Aug 2018
Some walk on it confidently,
and some are always afraid of it,
and some break it and fall,
but we're all walking on glass.

A big glass floor,
spider-webbed with cracks.
One day, we'll all fall.

All you can do is stand
with those you love
and wait for it.
Sorry I haven't posted in a while.
I know this is a typical poem, sorry!
Alex Jul 2018
The fight is lost,
The plans crumpled,
The dreams tossed,
The cookie crumbled.

It's permanently over now,
The battle's finally done.
The other side will take a bow,
And then maybe we'll see the sun.

But I can't hope.
Not anymore.
Not now that I've lost the only thing that made me feel found.
I hope you relate to this.
Alex Apr 2018
My arms are jello and my face is red,
I feel so weak and my legs are lead.
Because I've seen she's just walked in.
I can't explain- I can't even begin.

With eyes that sparkle like the moon,
She seems to come close much too soon.
I fluster and laugh and get all confused,
because with her I always lose.

I never know what to do,
Except to scrape the floor with my shoe.
What to do and what to say
To hide from her my ecstasy?

I love it when she's next to me.
Anything else I cannot see.
An invisible spotlight- and a wall
which is thick and impossibly tall.

I like her.
I'm sure.
I know it's true.
You know it, too.

But I can't tell her.
Not today, no sir.
I'm too afraid of denial
And to lose that beautiful smile.
So close but so far.
Alex Apr 2018
She's the key to freeing me
from my straitjacket of depression.
She's the light to show the way
when I'm stumbling through darkness.
She's the wall that keeps me from
wandering into the abyss.
She's the friend that talks to me
when no one else will.
She's the companion that stays beside me
even though it's a difficult place to be.
She's mine.
I know I've written poems like this before, but I can never seem to say how much she means to me.
Alex Apr 2018
She's my little butterfly.
That cannot be denied.
Her tiny, pretty, delicate wings
could carry her impossibly high.
She could touch the stars,
and she would not bear a scar.
No, nothing on her little wings
even though she's come so far.
She's a special one, my butterfly.
She's beautiful, talented, and awesome in the literal sense.
Alex Apr 2018
My angel is quite the peculiar one.
She's winged and cute and hot as the sun.
The odd thing about her are the things she's always worn.
Long, sharp, beautiful horns.
My angel, the devil.
Alex Apr 2018
If there was only one that I could choose,
it should be known it would be you.
With eyes so bright any light seems dim,
and a face only rivaled by what's found within.
You are so sweet, but so like fire,
making my heart burn with desire.
My one, my only, lost half of my soul,
until I am with you, I will never be whole.
There are many things I would say to You, if only I could.
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