A love like this isn't a love to miss
I visit my memories of happiness
Of Bliss
In my head
Painted fiction drowns out my vision.
The realization that ...
This isn't Love
Attachment at best
I fear
I fear
my dear , our love is but a game .. a shame
We hurt each other to feel love we create to blind our pain..
Dec 9, 2019
Dec 9, 2019 at 9:23 PM UTC
Broken promises that you’ve given to me
Have caused me to live a life
A life lacking my word
Expectations died, before birth
Trying to **** the pain before it hurts
Dec 8, 2019
Dec 8, 2019 at 11:41 PM UTC
Ordered in, to rise in lines
Where alone yet side by side
We hate to dream,
We hate to dream
Although nothing here is what it seems
Could we try to reinvent ; feed the head with common sense?
Lead me to the edge of night,
'Til the dawn , the end of time
'Til that fires blazing light,
Shines again , within our eyes.
Nov 21, 2019
Nov 21, 2019 at 11:56 AM UTC
Dear mother,
We are your babies for a little while.
Then we grow and explore our independence.
We swear we will never sound like you.
Until...One day we do.
At first it shocks us.
And yes, we will try to push away.
Then we have children.
Again... we repeat what you say.
By that time we realize a thing or two.
Then we understand why you do what you do.
When we reach that conclusion.
Things will have changed.
We will feel sorrow...
We will feel guilt...
We will cherish the blanket,
That you took the time to quilt.
We will not see this coming.
But things will really change.
The ones who call us their babies.
Become our babies in a way.
Our babies are there.
And gone in a day.
Nov 21, 2019
Nov 21, 2019 at 11:54 AM UTC
Ordered in, to rise in lines
Where alone yet side by side
We hate to dream,
We hate to dream
Although nothing here is what it seems
Could we try to reinvent ; feed the head with common sense?
Lead me to the edge of night,
'Til the dawn , the end of time
'Til that fires blazing light,
Shines again , within our eyes.
Nov 21, 2019
Nov 21, 2019 at 8:09 AM UTC
They say she's dumb
I see in her eyes that she wants to run.
She has a son
She holds so highly
he keeps her warm.
He is her sun.
She needs him near, to keep her here.
As they look down on her she feels their eyes yet she looks away
For she wants no praise.
Yes, she wishes it was different;
but ,this is the plate she was given.
Yes, it looks bad to them so they keep their distance.
Yet
They don't see that
she goes the distance.,
Broken inside
she's lost so much that, she'd end her life ,,in an instant.
But her boys eyes..
That's her insentive .
They see her insensitive
Her eyes say the opposite, full of emotion, she has no choice but to bottle it.
,,, Happiness afar yet she continues to follow it.
The pain that they Wollow in , she swolows it.
Swolow it, she bottles it.
Nov 20, 2019
Nov 20, 2019 at 12:53 PM UTC
Dear mother,
We are your babies for a little while.
Then we grow and explore our independence.
We swear we will never sound like you.
Until...One day we do.
At first it shocks us.
And yes, we will try to push away.
Then we have children.
Again... we repeat what you say.
By that time we realize a thing or two.
Then we understand why you do what you do.
When we reach that conclusion.
Things will have changed.
We will feel sorrow...
We will feel guilt...
We will cherish the blanket,
That you took the time to quilt.
We will not see this coming.
But things will really change.
The ones who call us their babies.
Become our babies in a way.
Our babies are there.
And gone in a day.
Nov 20, 2019
Nov 20, 2019 at 4:14 AM UTC