Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Xanthe Jan 2015
Why is it that every time I pass you my heart skips a beat?
I want to rip it out and yell at my foolishness.
One glance of your piercing blue eyes
And my world stops just for a moment.
I know you hate me.
Resent me.
Find me annoying.
I’m just a silly little girl with a silly little crush.
It’s what you’re used to Mr. Heart-throb.
But for me it’s so much more.
It kills me that I will never have you,
It was never our destiny to become one.
Your impossibly high cheekbones,
That tan skin and boyish smile,
And those incredible, piercing blue eyes.
But that’s not what I noticed first.
I saw one of the purest hearts filled with love.
I know you hate me.
Resent me.
Find me annoying.
But I love you.
It kills me that I will never have you.
Xanthe Jan 2015
Cracked and cold,
My heart slowly turns into stone.
I fill myself with fantasy and filth to appease my dying heart. False realities play before my eyes, of what could be and what will never be.
They fill me with such hope of naive romance.  
Reality comes crushing around me and the lack of warmth from another comes back with its icy tendrils around my body. I've chosen this fate, I've sacrificed my heart. I know my path.
Is it so much to ask to just be completely dominated and loved by another?
I just want to be touched and loved.
I want to feel safe in his arms.
I want my hand to fit perfectly in his.
I just want someone to love me.
Xanthe Jan 2015
Down, down the rabbit hole,
Into a world marred with blandness.
It's a silly little place,
Quite very queer,
All colored grey and flavored with sadness.
The tears trickle down and turn into streams,
Subtly washing away my dreams.
Always the martyr,
I chose this fate.
Ashes to ashes, we all fall down.
Some choose with a bullet and a frown.
The petals are soft
The petals are nice
Secretly laced with cyanide.
Tricksy little place,
Quite very queer,
Down, Down the rabbit hole,
Into the world filled with blackness.
Xanthe Dec 2014
Before I counted the notches in my skin,
There was one who started it all.
Red hair like fire and quite taller than me,
I called him my friend that's all he'd be,
Notche one doesn't have a name,
For I was merely a babe.
I grew up that day, unknowingly so,
Of love unrequited, to notches they go.
Notche two is quite a nice young man,
But unconsciously reminds of inadequacy in that I am.
Notche three is the big one,
He started the counting
And made me start doubting.
His notch draws blood of self affliction,
And brings on the punishment like an addiction.
Notch four was quite nice, a little quiet for me,
A bit quirky,  but he smelled good to me.
I played wife in hopes of reality,
But it was just my own fallacy.
Notch five one-uped everything,
And now he is dying of disease with no cure.
I had hoped to come into his life and make it more.
Now I'm not sure if I will see him anymore.
Notch six was my first love,
He makes me want to *****.
Notche seven is the one I can't get over,
He's ruined everyone else for me,
The worst part is that he'll never be mine.
Oh how I want him to be mine.
Notche eight baited me,
I thought I had a catch.
But his hand was down another girl's pants.
Notch nine is the freshest,
But my feelings are in repression,
For it wouldn't be fair.
Notches ten, eleven, and twelve are yet to be met,
Each are deeper as they get.
Notches and notches upon my skin,
Of love unrequited to notches they go.
Xanthe Dec 2014
Blinking lights, passing cars, life,
Glazed over before my eyes.
Careening they go with each breath.
I cry, I mourn,
I laugh, I smile,
Each day gets a little more grey.
I try to paint my way but my inner darkness gets in the way.
Our cold little safety blankets can whisper the sweetest things.
They promise warmth and light
But they only bring death.
Yet we snuggle and refuse to leave.
Baby it’s cold outside
How can we ever know when we are so numb?
I really can’t stay
But Baby it’s cold inside.

— The End —