Your name hurts
six letters have the power
to make my heart ache
and I have tried everything
to make the pain stop
repetition
repetition
repetition
but it doesn't work
and usually the more you repeat things
the less they mean
but with your name it doesn't work
sometimes I get used to the pain
it is just a lull that I learned to ignore
but then someone speaks your name
and it resonates through my veins
and sinks into my bones
your name is carved into my brain
and when i hear it what follows is
usually pain
pain that follows the fond memories
and the knowledge that you're not there
you consumed me and left me with no air
and so here i am trying to breathe
then you come back and air fills my lungs
breathing becomes easier when you're around.
Apr 15, 2014
Apr 15, 2014 at 1:31 PM UTC
so much passion but it hurts so bad
when i leave your bed i cant get you out of my head
but i keep to myself for fear of rejection
i only want to be with you but you wont show me the affection
you seem to have this hold on me i just cant shake free
so i write until these emotions will let me be
at least until the next time you text me
Apr 15, 2014
Apr 15, 2014 at 12:46 PM UTC
your touch doesnt feel the same
my skin ached for you but now its ashamed
how could i think we would be the same
we've lost everything that we ever became
i leave your room messy and half dressed
you kiss my cheek- i feel distressed
before i always left with feelings obsessed
now the thought of you is hard to digest-
Apr 15, 2014
Apr 15, 2014 at 12:38 PM UTC
a piece of you, in a different form.
a piece left over, from the storm.
in my existance,
came all the resistance.
shortly after, the roof caved in.
& with an end, we watched it begin.
daddy left, you stepped up.
an empty glass, you filled the cup.
little did we know, it had a leak.
it's dripping slowly, as we speak.
over bumps we built bridges, rocky roads we held hands.
next to me, by my side...you'd always stand.
then, my hero ****** up.
he spilt the cup.
but he wasn't to blame,
no guiltiness, no shame.
you mopped the floor,
and again..you poured.
the cup freshly filled...
until the next spill.
the crack grew longer,
our bond grew stronger.
but little by little,
it grew too brittle.
his pillows were fluffed.
mine came unstuffed.
his blankets were warm.
mine came torn.
his bed was made.
but, you see i was afraid.
he didn't come home.
my secret is left : unknown.
i hit a blindspot in your rearview mirror.
i tried to hit the wipers so you'd see clearer.
& i tried with all my might.
to get into your sight.
but he was standing there, in the headlights.
& you...flicked on your brights.
there, i stopped, i tumbled...i fell.
no mean to get up, no energy to compell.
so now, i'll try and help you understand,
why i only hold plastic cups in my hand.
i was tired of competing with the one who broke the cup.
and watching, everytime, as you filled it up.
i was tired of running, when he got to walk.
i was tired of staying silent, when he got to talk.
i didn't know you had to fail, in order to win.
i didn't know you had to say goodbye, in order to begin.
Apr 15, 2014
Apr 15, 2014 at 12:02 PM UTC