oh but the joy and beauty
of the unrequited love

for she loves as far as she could
even with him miles away
and people between them

and she loves unconditionally
and though she hopes for the best,
she doesn't expect much from him

so she just gives and gives.
caring and loving.
and i think that's beautiful.

As she tries to fall asleep with a subdued heart. With tears streaming down her delicate cheeks remembering every harsh word she was ever called. trying to figure out what was wrong with her because nobody else could.

He is so mean to her for no reason.
She always wonders why...
Until one day,

she found him crying and asked what's wrong
boy: "nothing that you can help me with! leave me the hell alone!"
girl: "why do you hate me?"

boy: "I hate you because I can't have you"
girl: "why can't you have me?"
boy: "because I love you too much to accept you being with someone like me."

She poured them out,
wasted them in torrents
to show me how much she cared.
But I will never forget
the sound of her sobs
as I walked away,
to get out of the pain
of leaving her,
her acid rain
forever.

I apologize for the both of us

you for forgetting so easily
and me for not letting things go

you for not listening to anything I don't say
and me for not saying anything


I'm sorry for trying to change you
and I'm sorry that I let you change me

I'm sorry for apologizing too much

There is a scream in the back of my throat
for every human in the world to hear;
I'm sick of every system and every heartbeat
and I'm angry. Angry. Angry,
but too tired to throw something.
I'm angry that it feels like every human being
is on the other end of some joke and
I'm the god ****** punchline,
and you can call it paranoia or narcissism,
but I'm able to drink both and still
sit in the waste it makes, and see it makes no difference
what label I give any metaphor.
They all say the same thing.
They all say the same **** thing.

i'm screaming under the layers of sounds;
i don't know where they're coming from,
but they keep pointing at my broken heart.
the edges of this glass-piece contraption between my lungs
sing like static against my rib cages,
muting the sound of the words i've been aching to say.
the sound of the tearing resonates relentlessly like the rain,
and there is comfort in the sound,
but it feels heavy in my chest
like the apologies that rotted in your throat
before you could tell me everything.

i'm screaming under layers of sounds;
i don't know where they're coming from,
but they keep pointing at my throbbing head.
the thoughts that rage sound like breaking glass,
and they create shipwrecks in my calm mind.
the words that you said still bombard the walls of my skull,
carving every sentence that i wanted to hear from you,
but never dared leave your mouth.
perhaps i'm going crazy, but at least feel a tad bit honored
that the way my head spins
is all caused for and by you.

i'm screaming under layers of sounds;
i don't know where they're coming from,
but they keep pointing at you.
you used to be my symphony, my only melody,
but you left me a broken note and a crooked key.
the parts that you planted your kisses on
decided to sound like raging storms and sirens.
the way your fingertips trickled down the line of my back
used to echo the song of the stars,
but now they hum the world's saddest tunes.
you buried me beneath these sounds, and not even i can hear my soul.