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ghostsonpaper Jul 2017
and you wonder if they knew how close you were would they keep pushing
I'm no longer on solid ground
I'm balancing on the loose gravel at the edges stumbling
dangerously
threatening to tumble
spilling what's left of me.
Two years later it's still not good enough
Two years later and I'm not worth a ****.
ghostsonpaper Aug 2015
is this what not good enough looks like?
it's what I've felt my whole life.
not pretty enough to keep someone captivated,
not interesting enough for a friend,
not thin enough to even like my body...
you could be everything someone asked for and still not be what they want.
when everyone in my life so far has only walked away..it's what I expect now.
but strangers surprise me still,
just once I would like to look in the mirror and see what they see when they look at me.
how is it so easy for someone that doesn't know me to see what everyone else has missed?
maybe that's the problem, they don't know me.
if they did I'm sure they would change their mind like everyone else.
maybe one day...
maybe one day...
ghostsonpaper Aug 2015
goodnight scarecrow,
you almost made me love again.
my heart is too broken to nurse another injured soul.
one day I'll understand why we were lost before we were found.
maybe I wasn't good enough to love you from afar.
it wasn't enough knowing we are under the same stars.
we gave up too soon, for that spark to catch it's fire.
then as suddenly as we turned our back, the flame engulfed us all.
ghostsonpaper May 2015
do I really have to explain why I don't feel like talking?
do I have to keep telling you how hard it is to even crawl out of bed?
why do I still stare into the empty space you use to fill?
why do I have to be so repetitive about my mood when it's written all over my face?
why am I the one stuck here not wanting to exist at all?
I can feel the sadness creeping in at the edges,
slowly stealing my smile.
I can feel my heart pounding as it gets harder to breathe.
this endless day, I'm losing you all over again.
ghostsonpaper May 2015
my heart is still bleeding.
the only thing separating my love,
its useless existence.
still beating.
this miserable being here.
still breathing.
when I only wanted my lungs to collapse,
I've waited so long for my last.
and it's ever fleeting.
a distant hope,
this breath may be choked
by this rope I dangle from.
untangle these heart strings to knot their beating.
love pooled on the floor in the stilled bleeding.
once again, silence.
love, forever sleeping.
poets are made from broken hearts.
ghostsonpaper Apr 2015
you stopped talking so I stopped trying.
it's a miserable existence to feel the pain of slowly dying.
and now we're trading indirect curses hoping the other will notice first and give in and say hi.
but instead we sit alone and suffer in silence.
just pretend that you're fine.
hide behind those fake smiles and blank stares.
the feelings will fade until you remember you care and you miss her.
ghostsonpaper Mar 2015
home is a place that doesn't exist to me
it was where you always found me
I haven't been there much lately
always running away and imagining you being just as lost trying to find me as I am now trying to still find you
I'm sorry I can't stay there,
in all the places that I know you can't be with me
I'm bleeding, every part of me
and I don't know how to make it stop
I couldn't be ok if I wanted to
home doesn't seem to be a place I can go.
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