Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Violet Hooper Jul 2013
Everything is happening
exactly as i figured it would

i always love to be right
to have that "upper hand"

but what i would give
for the simple pleasure

in admitting to being wrong
**** this time in particlular
Violet Hooper Jul 2013
There were pictures of us on the wall
Right above the bed
and a note you wrote in blue ink with a felt tip pen
you slipped it in my pocket
when we went to the park
and we acted like idiots and raced to the swings
remembering things is too **** easy for me
Violet Hooper Jul 2013
im not even trying and words are pouring out
on to a plank page

feelings i thought i forgot about

*but i never could forget the way you sigh in your sleep
Violet Hooper Jul 2013
a philosophy of life.
because you can't know why

some of us liveand some of us die
or why the light caught your eyes

in my bedroom that winter night
as the days got longer,

you planned an escape
far away for better days

and you said you'd still love me.
Violet Hooper Jul 2013
maybe tomorrow
I'll wake up
and i just won't care

maybe tomorrow
*i just wont wake up
Violet Hooper Jun 2013
I'm sitting in my sophomore English class.
Taking notes on grammar
And learning what a metaphors does
Clutching my copy of 'Lord of the Flies."
And wishing the loud boy next to me hadn't spoiled the ending

I still find time for you in my thoughts, though.
you wouldn't have told me that two boys die and then they're saved.
you would have reminded me
That I'm already good at grammar
"hell you correct me all the time!"
And that my metaphors are nice.

You'd shake your head at me whilst chuckling.
About me sitting in the corner
With earphones jammed into my head
So that I don't have to participate.

Even though its the beginning of this year
It sure is blending into the last one
Found my notebook and its full of old stuff c:
Violet Hooper Jun 2013
The pretty ******* the train smiles at me,
But she's uneasy.
She doesn't know about me
or anyone here

The old man with the small reading glasses
reading yesterday's paper
He is merely a background character.

He has his own life outside this moving box
  Just as I work forty hours a week,
and spend all my money on cigarettes

They won't know just by watching me nervously scribble on a napkin
On the 5:15 train
Heading east to god only knows where.
Next page