Silence and dirty looks
That's all we seem to be now
It used to not be like this
But it got like this somehow
We went form being best friends
To you barely looking my way
What did I do to deserve this?
Was it something I did or said?
Is there any way to resolve this?
So I don't lose my best friend…
Could we put aside our differences
So this friendship doesn't end?
Because you see this is really hurting me
I can't stand to be treated this way
It happened in the past
Where a "friend" stopped giving me the time of day
I wish that you would talk to me
So we could work whatever this is out
But instead you're just ignoring me
And constantly shutting me out
Hopefully we'll resolve this
And maybe be friends again
And maybe one day I'll be able to
Once again say that you're my best friend.
I’m ready to break open like a glass shattered into a million pieces
I don’t know how much more I can take before the pressure will make me crack
I feel their eyes on me, watching my every move
I know that they want me to make a mistake, they need it, they thrive on it
But I can’t do that, I have to keep pushing forward
I can’t let the pressure get to me, not yet
I can’t let them see what they are doing; if I do then they will win
I can’t let them win, THEY WILL NEVER WIN
What do you do about someone who is speaking publicly of you?
...beneath the ill and secretly in the shadows there
are the parts that reveal truth of which no one knows...
what do you do about people who once mattered no longer mattering?...
what do you matter?, to those of you who chose to....
what do you do about them talking about you...
what do you do when all they do is lie of you...
what do you do when they no longer matter
what do you do when I no longer matter to you?
what do you do?
when you are pale blue...
What do YOU do when-
no one loves YOU!
On my bed
Is a shirt I bought you,
That I'll meticulously wrap
Over and over
Until I get it looking nice,
And that I will send to you before
The next time I see you,
Whenever that may be.
I chose the colour to bring out
The shades of orange in your eyes,
And I thought the fabric
Would feel soft on your skin.
As I look at it, pressed and clean
I can imagine it draped
The way it will cling to
How it'll sweep your waist
Loosely and crinkle a little.
The sleeves will be folded thickly
At the elbow, revealing your
Forearms and long, slim fingers.
To touch and stroke and kiss
And caress it, now, as it lies
Benign on my duvet, is
a temptation that overwhelms.
When it reaches you, embalmed
In my kisses and having been held
In my arms, it will mean a small
Part of myself can be with you,
Even though all of me can't.
I may be the one who took myself
Away back home for the weekend,
I may be the one who
Deactivated all social networking sites,
For the time being,
Let's face it
I am also the one
Wishing for blinkers as I
Peek at your jacket from
The guilty little corners of my eyes
When it comes down to it,
It turns out I'm the one who
Turned out the lights and,
Fumbling and foolish,
Zipped your jacket over my pillow
And slept with it in my arms.
I kept it close all night,
In rapturous delight
That it smelled
There's something so delicious
about teasing your eyelids open
until the sun comes up because of
some Magnum Opus you have to finish,
It's so gloriously and pretentiously
fabulous to moan, luxuriously, as
the clock slides past midnight and
you are still wearily, sanctimoniously,
ingesting caffeine by the bucketful.
Maybe you casually change your socks
as the little hand reaches for 2.
Perhaps you stretch as the big hand
liaises with 6, and take a premeditated walk,
just to stretch those intellectual legs.
With paper-cupped Espresso balanced
precariously on your knee, you might
rub your face indulgently and glance around
the library at the other honeybees
droning delightfully alongside you.
The likelihood is that the masterpiece will remain
unfinished. Still, it's a thrill to willfully
defy Sleep's chariot with red and reluctant eyes,
and, quite honestly, I never really feel more
She loves the beat,
bass so heavy
She loves the heat,
In the middle
of these times,
I'd like to be
with New York City,
if she'd ever take
a bore like me.
in the middle
of her times,
to hear her
against my ear,
they can't stop me.
they can't stop me