I am sorry for being there when you needed it
I am sorry for being patient with you
I am sorry for listening to what it is that you were saying
I am sorry for being the shoulder that you needed
I am sorry that I squeezed too tight
That I spoke so much
I am sorry that I gave the right advice
At the right time
And that I smiled so much when I was with you
I am sorry that I gave in to all of your compliments
That I let myself get lost in your eyes
And I am sorry that I was free every weekend
Every single time that you weren't
But most of all I'm sorry that I made you love me
And twice as much that I realised it too late
Because I cant stop now.
Mar 6, 2015
Mar 6, 2015 at 2:41 AM UTC
I’m thinking of running away
Away from my thoughts
Away from my fears
Away from my life
I wonder if I just packed my bags and boarded the next train out
If I just disappeared
Started anew
Would things get better?
For me?
For you?
For them??
Would I be a blank slate?
Or am I forever stained with the ink of my past mistakes?
I wonder sometimes, how you would react if I left
How would you react?
Would you come looking?
Or ignore it completely.
Would you worry?
Or go live your life with her.
I don’t know why I think these things
I dream up scenarios where bad things happen
Just so I can pretend that your reaction would show signs of care
I trick myself into believing that that is the truth
But then I always wake up into reality;
A reality where you’re with her and I am alone.
A reality where I missed my chance from the beginning.
And where the betrayal that runs through a previous friendship
Is just as raw as the first day that I found out.
Jan 18, 2015
Jan 18, 2015 at 12:37 AM UTC
“Your only gonna get hurt in the end”
Warnings coming in from left and right
Pushing you back yet pulling you in
The tears start to pour
At a steady rate that won’t ever stop.
It started like a fairytale
Ended like a nightmare
The pain wounding you deep
And leaving a scar so large it may never heal
He digs and he digs
Blissfully unaware of what he is doing to you
Living in his own world with her
Yourself uninvited.
This is the story
It has been told time and time again
It all begins with a girl and ends with a guy
Everything planned out perfectly
The beginning is hopeful
Girl meets Guy
Girl likes Guy
Guy shows signs of having feelings for Girl.
The middle expands on this
It is long and uneventful
Simply there to give the reader an idea of what is supposed to happen next
And progressing through the emotions of young artists
Their medium- love.
Girl and Guy fall in love, get together
Girl+Guy=perfection
Girl=Happy
Guy=Happy
Everything seems as perfect as perfect can be
Of course that doesn’t happen.
Not exactly
Not at all.
Insert the ******
Where a twist appears
The Guy meets another girl, the Friend of the Girl
The Guy gets together with the Friend
And shows no remorse or regret
No signs at all of knowing what could have been
The Girl is left in the dust
Surrounded by nothing but cracked fragments of her own heart
And the happy faces of the Guy and the back stabbing Friend
Together.
The Girl is still there, her feelings still strong
She knows that she isn’t wanted in that way anymore
The Friend has made that clear enough, through her own backstabbing ways
The friendship that was is now laid to rest
As eye contact is avoided, smiles put on in fakery
Seats are swapped to accommodate the pain that the Girl feels
The only cure being avoidance.
The ending is woeful
As the girl backs away slowly
From what has and could have been
Armed only with a pen
As she eases her way back to the beginning of the cycle
Heart cold
Silence strong
Her story has only just begun.
Jan 10, 2015
Jan 10, 2015 at 6:47 AM UTC
One step forward two steps back.
So close yet so far apart.
Three’s a crowd, right?
I won’t give up.
On who?
Me? Or her?
Talk tomorrow.
Ok, sure.
But how can we if you won’t reply to me?
I really like her.
Ouch, that one hurt.
I can’t stop thinking about her.
Yep. Still hurts.
Is it worth it?
I want to say no, but it’s not my decision to make.
I want to save her.
Go ahead. But saving her means losing me.
For better or for worse. I can’t breathe.
Jan 4, 2015
Jan 4, 2015 at 10:42 PM UTC
I’m seeing blue.
Where there was nothing now there is something
But happiness comes with a price
As a life where tears are never shed is a life not worth living.
You need a balance after all
But even with those small patches of white
Clear skies can only mean one thing;
A storm is about to erupt
Myself caught right in the middle of it.
In a world where there is only right and wrong, what would you do?
Or better yet; what wouldn’t you do?
What will you say, think, feel?
And better yet, who will you trust?
In a game where everyone’s a player, where everyone wants to win, who will you allow in?
At the ultimate risk; betrayal, heartbreak, anger, sorrow.
But the ultimate prize?
The impossible will become possible.
And love will strike again,
The power to make you oh so happy
Yet oh so sad.
So I ask again;
Who can you trust?
Jan 3, 2015
Jan 3, 2015 at 8:59 PM UTC
Why is it that we are always wanting time to pass quickly?
We're constantly watching the clock, waiting for the minutes to fly by
But we never look at what it really represents
At how every minute that passes
Is a minute of your life that won't ever come back
Can't ever be recovered
As it is lost in the hands of a clock that is forever ticking
Counting down every second
Every minute
Every hour of the rest of our lives.
Each time we look at a clock
Watching the hands slowly tick by
We never do realise the meaning of what it is actually counting down to.
For it isn't really counting that one meeting you don't want to go to
Or that single maths period that feels like it will never end.
No.
That clock is actually counting down towards the final moments of the best times of our lives
The ones that we take advantage of without even realising it
Whether it's our years in school,
Or the last few years of our childhood.
The final few days you have left to spend with a loved one,
Or the true bliss of your first real relationship.
You see, through the good times and the bad
The smiles, the tears and the laughs
The times that you never really want to end,
And the ones you wish were over in a heartbeat;
This clock will be forever in the back of your mind
Counting down the hours, minutes, seconds
Towards the end.
And it's only then that you realise
That you wish to turn it back and start again.
But you don't know how
And those last few hours that you have left
Won't be spent looking at a clock.
But instead will be used to look over every single moment of your life
From the beginning to the end.
And it's only then, that the clock will finally stop ticking.
Jan 2, 2015
Jan 2, 2015 at 7:13 AM UTC
We live in a society full of insecurity
Red lips
Dark eyes
Fake tan.
Forced smiles
Closed eyes
Clenched fists,
Show no weakness
Show no mercy
Small hands on pale stomachs
Eyes constantly searching for ways to rid that extra pound
That extra curve
**** in
Deep breath
Back straight
Every calorie counts.
Is this really the world that we live in?
Is this the life that we wish to lead?
Our lives are no longer determined by the way that we think
They are not dedicated to achieving our dreams
To pursuing our goals
No
The way that we live is based upon the way that we look
And thus, the way that we are treated
We are always going to compare ourselves to another
That is a given
If we don't look good then we aren't happy
Right?
But for others to determine the fates of ourselves depending strictly upon a template of "perfection"?
Perfection is a disease
The very aspect of it plagues your mind
Inhabits your soul
And brings upon an individual an idea of something to achieve
That is nearly impossible to achieve
It is a roller coaster that only goes down
A concoction that only leads to inevitable heartache and pain
A poison that has no known cure
And it hurts
Perfection hurts.
Dec 31, 2014
Dec 31, 2014 at 11:21 PM UTC