he made a game
of song titles
just to hear
my sigh and
see my smile and
deep down
i knew
that behind his smile
there lay a
long, broken path
that led
to a blackhole
and this blackhole
was his mind.
and as the
days died, died, died
so did he.
he stopped his
game
and i started
to realize
that the game was
not about the songs or
my sighs
but instead it
was about a
cry for help
that i never heard
Mar 29, 2015
Mar 29, 2015 at 12:46 AM UTC
you were the pendulum of my clock;
without you, i still ticked
but not once did i ever have
the same rhythm
as before
Nov 22, 2014
Nov 22, 2014 at 11:31 PM UTC
i miss the feeling of
bound paper in my hands
full of secrets the whole world
has access to yet few choose
to indulge in the secrets
that rest right in front of them
imagination seems to be
a thing of the past
there's a certain amount
of personal pleasure one
seeks when reading
that not all novels are capable of.
those that are are precious,
and you feel almost selfish
when you hold it close
and read its beauty.
i miss the unspoken joy
literature and a good plot
grant me and i am at once
satisfied from heart to mind.
it's the book lullaby
i enjoy the most
the calm, rhythmic words
forming sentences, pages, books....
they lull me to sleep
and i dream, dream, dream
of worlds and people
i will never be lucky enough to meet.
people say they aren't real
fictional, they call them
but it's more than that
these characters taught me more
than any other human has come close to.
their unique originality
i cannot find anywhere else
but in the combination of letters
that we call books
and it's this book lullaby
that keeps me loving, caring,
it's the source of my passion
and the source of my dreams
sweet, sweet inspiration
that is one of a kind
Aug 23, 2013
Aug 23, 2013 at 11:37 AM UTC
it means i'm sorry
for all the things
you've had to put up with
Je suis désolé
Jun 7, 2013
Jun 7, 2013 at 3:30 PM UTC
It was the moment we were born.
Seconds apart, we came into the world.
It always annoyed us, always bothered us
that neither of our parents could remember
which was older, the first from the womb
We would always tease each other
But we were inseparable all the same.
It was the year that we changed
to the lonely, bitter I.
The year I went to my first funeral
and staring into the coffin numbly,
I remember seeing an almost
exact replica of myself
And that was the moment I broke.
Jun 7, 2013
Jun 7, 2013 at 1:47 AM UTC
i cut my feet
on broken glass
but i couldn't feel pain
until i saw you in its reflection
Jun 7, 2013
Jun 7, 2013 at 1:39 AM UTC
one day i met a prince.
but his crown was not as gold
not as perfect, not as wealthy
as his heart.
Jun 7, 2013
Jun 7, 2013 at 1:35 AM UTC
i tell myself
you were never worth it
but that is my head
and what my heart tells me
is the truth.
one time, you were.
you were always, always
worth my time, my words.
and still, i'm thinking, remembering
and i realize i still want to
to spend my time, my words
on you and only you
like old times
even thinking that
it's a waste to even bother
all because that one time
it was perfect.
it was beautiful.
it was infinite.
we were perfect.
we were beautiful.
we were infinite.
but past tense
gives away all
of my story
Jun 7, 2013
Jun 7, 2013 at 1:29 AM UTC
at the edge of every cliff you face
you have the option to fly,
or to fall.
Jun 7, 2013
Jun 7, 2013 at 1:18 AM UTC