Oh, Isabella
Wild, giggling Isabella with hair like pure golden thread
Every girl wants to be you, every boy yearns for your glance
I’d sell my soul to be you for only one mere day
To regain the one thing that I desire
Who desires you instead
But who wouldn’t, with looks like that
And that fierce sense of humor
Anything you could want is yours
But are you truly happy?
Each quip, each joke, each one-liner
Only earns you more followers to your cult of dreams
But do they really care, Isabella?
Do the boys who follow, whispering the sweetest of nothings
See beyond your body and into the girl within
Oh no, Isabella
Are the rumours true?
The one person you truly loved
Never truly loved you
You and me, we’re much the same
With our unfulfilled dreams of love
So there we sit alone together
Oh, poor Isabella
Dec 7, 2025
Dec 7, 2025 at 4:04 AM UTC
In my mind your next to me
Singing along to Arctic Monkeys while the sun goes down
In my mind we go on dates to the bowling alley
I try my best but you win every time
And it makes you laugh as we hold hands
In my mind everyone’s jealous
That I have you and we fell into love
To the sounds of “I Wanna Be Yours”
In my mind you play the drums next to me
Just like in the band
And you play “I Bet That You Look Good On The Dancefloor”
While I devote hours to learning it just to impress you
In my mind you run to me after my show
And hold me like I’m something worth holding
In my mind you still love me
But when I open my eyes I’m all alone
And “Love is a Laserquest” rings out through my headphones
As my life crumbles on the bus trip home
Dec 7, 2025
Dec 7, 2025 at 3:22 AM UTC
His eyes are the fragile sheets of ice spread across the deep, storming ocean
His hair is the wild sands of the desert
His laugh is the music of angels
His smile is the crown jewels, putting every other gemstone to shame
His chest is the warm hearth at the centre of a barren home
His lips are Atlantis
His cheeks are a sweet cake dappled with sprinkles
His voice is the rhythmic, comforting percussion of drums
His mind and Loki’s are one in the same
His hands are ancient carved marble
His skin is the most precious pearl in all the seas
His love is a mirage on the horizon seen by the madman
His new girls are lit matches
His stare is the bullet of a sniper’s gun
And I am the wounded soldier who remains unseen by his comrades
Left
To
Die
Dec 6, 2025
Dec 6, 2025 at 10:41 PM UTC