I gaze into your beautiful eyes Your smile melts my heart and Sets my soul on fire and My heart grows fonder every minute for you and every time I see you every time I hear your voice my heart will forever beat I'm in love you.
She keeps songs locked away in boxes like secrets. She will take them out like postcards to help her remember the feeling of a different time, a different person by her side. She likes the one that makes her eyes close to see the lights. She smiles at the one that makes her stand up on tiptoes, the one that helps her forget she doesn’t know what to do with her hands.
The tune will carry her.
Like it did the times when voices broke like a heart. When instruments’ strings would snap and hurt.
I used to read your poems but lately you don't write you're silent and aloof you know that isn't right. You can't close a door once opened you can't abolish all your dreams you're a poet of the heart mustn't fall apart at the seams. Say what you can in words they speak the message true spoken from the heart the poems will see you through. A hermit's not your style a recluse, you are not never give up writing of things that you've been taught. I used to read your poems I'd read them once again if you would send them out (this one's from a poet friend)
Went to see my shrink the other day For some unknown reason He felt the need to tell me he was a Liberal I told him I identify as a Paradox He said that was strange He had heard of Furries But never has anyone identified As a pair of Doc Martins before
Merry-go-round? No. Merry-go-****-yourself. It wasn’t a pleasant belly laugh joy ride Like a 4 year old smiling on a rotating plastic pony. It was a ******* wood chipper. And you slowly fed me through. A ******* whirlwind. Where you pushed me in, limb by limb. And I swear, before my head got forced in, I swear for a second I saw you finally smile. I could describe it like a horror movie villain, Like some mythical demon, But you were so much more terrifying.
Though, I fear you forgot how strong I am. You were quick to believe you had me deep under your spells. I don’t stay broken for long, I reform stronger.
I’m not scared of you anymore, So if you’re like Stephen king’s clown; He who floats in the sewers, You can no longer thrive and survive off my fear. It’s dissipated. Without a lifeline now, and soon you will die.
In reference to a poem my ex asked me to write called “merry-go-round” back in 2015.
i spent my life trying to please someone with a twisted disease i broke myself down and tucked my feelings away to become the person they wanted me to be i let myself be watched through the glass of a two sided mirror of a sociopath i wallowed my spirit away and begged for acceptance but there’s nothing in the world that i could do to let the narcissist know that i am human too
the only thing that can please a narcissist is being miserable
I love him I tell myself I know that We will be together forever I don’t believe that We could be separated My thoughts tell me that He’s the love of my life Sometimes my heart lies and says I could live an eternity Without him Like my friends say “We’re perfect for each other” And you can’t tell me He’s not the one.
It's a quiet kind of suffering— The sort that you need to tolerate, because you fear abandonment and loneliness. Sometimes there are glimpses of equality, a deception by far. You know you love them more. More than they ever will. What can you do about it? It's not like you'll leave. You crave their touch and their attention. You fear showing your attachment. You quietly die, knowing you love them more.
They said, "The most beautiful art is looking into someone's eyes when they talk about the things they love." And I said, "Or looking at someone you love. Or maybe, just maybe, by looking at the mirror is the most beautiful art anyone should appreciate."
Appreciation post for myself; for you and for everyone as well. You deserve more than the world has to offer.
I thought if I could swallow the stars I’d be as beautiful as the evening sky I tried one night with fireflies They burned my throat Their legs striking at soft flesh But my skin did not glow No moon crawled from my eye sockets I was left with corpses in my stomach I soon learned I would only ever be A cemetery