I don't think I'm in love with him.
Not anymore, at least.
Now it's more than just him.
I think I'm in love with love.
Being in love,
Feeling loved,
Knowing that someone is there.
Holding hands in a crowded hallway
With confidence.
A kiss that wasn't a cruel dare.
Someone to wipe away tears,
Steady my breathing,
Something more.
It's just that
He was the first time I met love,
But now I feel like we're strangers.
He was the reason I pushed love away.
And now love has left me.

I've found that searching doesn't do much good.

Suicidal thoughts are poetic
The slitting of wrists
Ropes tied around your neck
The need to put that one foot forward
Into the pit that ends everything;
Hopes, dreams, wishes and nightmares combined

Suicidal thoughts are poetic
The feeling of drowning
A knife pierced to your heart
The want to simply put that one foot forward
To the center of the road that starts everything;
Sorrow, regret and sympathy combined

Suicidal thoughts are poetic
The endless hallucinations and insomnia
Thinking of what would happen if you died
The uncontrollable yearning to simply put that one foot forward;
To the darkness of closed eyes that makes everything;
Problems, unanswered questions and contentment combined

Suicidal thoughts are so poetic
That it comes to a point
That all of it
Suddenly and inconspicuously
Becomes true

Love is love
life is life
so what if he doesn't have a wife


Roses are red
Violets are blue
If you call me fat I will **** you



I rise like the sand
To face only one man

Hate is passion
Here take action


Be more like a lady
until you drive yourself crazy



Act like man
So that you will never understand
But you will still be a man.