so hey i know you miss hanging out so you could ***** about things to me and talk like the world was against you and say that i was great for being there for you and that you loved me but the second i left you would talk behind my back and call me things like a lost puppy and it broke my ******* heart it still breaks my heart and i guess im stupid for not believing what people said
Aug 31, 2014
Aug 31, 2014 at 2:56 PM UTC
i have
the battlecry
youll never
forget
so run away
Apr 13, 2014
Apr 13, 2014 at 12:50 PM UTC
"Has poetry saved lives?"
Maybe.
"How would you know?"
I don't.
"Then why even answer?"
I have hope.
"Hope for what?"
Hope that it hasn't.
"Oh."
Feb 19, 2014
Feb 19, 2014 at 5:22 PM UTC
She is beautiful, and she is my friend.
She used to be blonde, but now has a mix of brown and red.
She's smaller than me, but about a year older.
She's smarter than me, and also taller.
She is beautiful, and she is my friend.
She's kindhearted, and too lovely.
She's better than me, better at trusting people than me.
She knows what to say, and knows when to call ********
She is beautiful, and she is my friend and I'm falling in love with her.
Jan 20, 2014
Jan 20, 2014 at 2:38 PM UTC
Did you miss the fact,
that I'm hellbound?
That I got my sentence long ago,
and been walking here on borrowed time.
They even say I'm the devil.
Didn't it stop you?
Maybe you missed it.
I feel sorry for you if you did.
Dec 28, 2013
Dec 28, 2013 at 7:26 PM UTC
I don't say sorry, not often. Especially when I don't mean it.
I don't know why, I just can't sometimes.
It feels wrong, like I'm giving away my power over myself.
Because "sorry" is a powerful word, really.
It feels like your pride gets hurt, and sometimes, that's all people have.
It's you admitting a mistake.
Sorry should be easy to say.
Sometimes I refuse to say it.
And sometimes it's all I say, because it's all that I am.
Dec 28, 2013
Dec 28, 2013 at 5:04 PM UTC
I finished a book yesterday.
I'm gonna start a new one, soon. And waiting for more ones.
Books are great, really.
They kind of hide you.
They hide from exactly what ever you want.
Maybe it's your family.
Or your past.
Or everything, which is a very wide department, but very true.
But the book I was talking about.
I got it. I really did.
And it was about this boy. This boy who saw everything, and nothing.
I got the book.
Dec 28, 2013
Dec 28, 2013 at 11:48 AM UTC
Did they welcome you back to those halls?
To the insanity?
To the familiarness of it all.
You knew the rules, the people, everything,
when you came back.
Felt the same feeling again.
Maybe you would be even more tired, too far gone.
Maybe this time, it would be the last.
You would stay.
Dec 26, 2013
Dec 26, 2013 at 8:38 PM UTC
The thing about my heart is,
i don't know if i have one.
I know i have a heart,
but i mean a heart.
Feelings. Emotions.
Do you know how many times i've been called heartless?
Made of stone?
Black as can be?
Completely cold.
But you know,
it's a lot ******* easier that way.
I don't like feelings.
You can get mocked because of them.
You can get hurt.
Why would i want to feel that,
when i can be made of stone.
Dec 26, 2013
Dec 26, 2013 at 8:18 PM UTC
I have two sisters, a father, and a mother.
I would die for any of them.
But dying.
Is it because i don't want to be here?
Or is it because of my love for them?
For my father, i would die out of love.
For my mother, i would die out of love.
For my twin sister, i would die out of love.
For my older sister, i would die out of love, and go to all ends of the world for her.
I would die, out of love, for all of them.
But also to get out of this life.
Dec 26, 2013
Dec 26, 2013 at 7:58 PM UTC