Part of me thinks I'm an idiot waiting for the same old story to have different ending. It's always me crying in the bathroom while you prove to me again, that old habits indeed die hard.
Part of me thinks that I'd be an idiot to let you go. To let go of the speeding heart, the loving glances, the soft touches and your midnight eyes.
I'm an idiot. Always a complete and utter idiot. Over-thinking. Over-thinking everything that happens, never letting go but always wanting to.
Z.a
Jan 3, 2015
Jan 3, 2015 at 3:26 AM UTC
You tried to kiss me and I pushed you away- you never really cared for the girls your lips touched, and I just couldn't bare to be forgotten.
Your splinted knuckles and your stupid smile got this anger harbored in my gut, and I've been puking butterflies for a while now and their wings have slashed up my insides, and it ******* hurts. It ******* hurts. It ******* hurts because I do care
Nov 4, 2014
Nov 4, 2014 at 4:58 AM UTC
Stop showing
You love me
A little at a time.
Stop saying
You care
Bit by bit.
Stop keeping
Me here
For tiny pieces of time.
Because I need
All of you
Not piece by piece.
I love
All of you
Not just some parts of you.
So love all of me
All the way
All the time.
Or let all of me go
All at once
For good.
Nov 4, 2014
Nov 4, 2014 at 4:42 AM UTC
His words were lies through teeth, and I should've known. Oh, I should've lnown.
Uncanny eyes, and stupid flattery, and how he made me feel so unique.
It's all so dumb, isn't it? I let him in despite my better judement, and started writing about his habit of never finishing cigarettes.
How he took whiskey in chipped glasses, and the bitter alcohol tasted like his own blood. And how things were always a demsotration of power, control, carelessness- rough hands and champagne smiles, and splinted knuckles, and mignight kisses.
And I guess now I know how much a person can realy **** you over.
Oct 18, 2014
Oct 18, 2014 at 11:17 PM UTC
You're skin and skin and skin-soft silky pale skin- and green eyes and red cheeks and sometimes I think I'm not enough for you because your hair is pink and my mom won't even let me have an ear piercing and you play in a band and I get yelled at for listening to music to loud. I just ******* hate that we are more alike than you think but you'll never know I could be the one for you because I'm too ********* afraid to go against the rules.
Aug 11, 2014
Aug 11, 2014 at 3:44 PM UTC
You poisoned my sunsets, now I can't watch the horrizon anymore. I guess it was my fault because I wanted to do everything with you and now I can't do a thing without swallowing pieces of broken promises and memories of you.
Aug 5, 2014
Aug 5, 2014 at 4:59 PM UTC
I dont know what to do
I dont know what to say
So I'll just stop until I can
Aug 4, 2014
Aug 4, 2014 at 5:56 PM UTC
It was summer and you weren't smoking anymore. You still bit your nails when in stress but at least that doesn't **** you.
My mom said she didn't like you because you smoked and you played in a band, she said you'd break my heart.
I've always been a goodie-two-shoes and I told you I didn't want to disappoint her, and then you asked me if I wasn't disappointing myself.
I told you I couldn't see you because a lighter was always in your pocket and your sweaters always smelled like smoke and your palms were callused and your voicewas awfully musical.
You said you'd give up on anything for me but I told you that if I let you, then I'd be really disappointed in myself, before I left.
I've never cried as much as that night, and I didn't see you for months and then I realized my mother was right, you did break my heart, but only because I made you drop it.
Now its too late for anything and I guess I'll never know how your mouth tastes without the tobacco lingering.
Aug 4, 2014
Aug 4, 2014 at 5:50 PM UTC
You got me all caught up in words and stares.
The first time I saw you I knew you were differenet, it wasn't the dyed hair though, it was your smile and how you were the first person to see me as a human being- not some experiment labeled fragile.
I remember your favorite songs.
I remember how your laugh sounded.
I remember how you scrunch your nose when your voice cracked.
I remember watching you move, and walking side by side next to me; you were the first to ever asked me where I wanted to go.
And then I knew you and I knew I had been right when I thought you were different, because you are, and I know I'll never find someone who makes me feel like you because of that.
Jul 31, 2014
Jul 31, 2014 at 9:59 PM UTC
My heart beat so hard the first time I held your hand
I'm sure you felt me shaking
and I drunk texted you once
and I still meant it all the next day
and I embarrassed myself in front of you
but my face didn't turn red
and I named a poem after you
and somebody called it beautiful
Jul 31, 2014
Jul 31, 2014 at 9:47 PM UTC