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When asked what my favourite name is
my answer will always be the same
yet it will always be different
because my answer to the question will always be
the name of the one that I love.
Her name was Summer
And she had a fire burning inside of her
That no one could make flicker.

Her name was Autumn
And her hair glistened red and orange
As it fell across her face in the most beautiful way.

Her name was Winter
And when she turned her ice blue eyes to you,
A chill ran down your spine and you felt those feelings
You’ve longed for for oh so long.

Her name was Spring
And after the tears streamed down her face
Flowers began to bloom in her soul and she found herself in their petals.

My name is Mary
And I am none of these things.

m.c.c.
I often disregard the fact that people affect me the way they do
whether it be good or bad, I just can't shake the fact that people matter
So I'm really astonished by the fact that good people
or anyone really, are treated badly
Is it that we forget the Golden Rule at a certain age
such as when adolescence hits and our selfishness consumes us
or when things gets so bad that it's depression you can't escape
whatever it maybe, whoever it maybe
don't you think they'd appreciate a little kind-heartedness?
even if it ain't reciprocated,
even if they hate you,
even if they harm you,
look into the core of their soul
and let them know,
how their actions only reflect
how much hurt they have endured
and the fact of the matter is,
that they are loved,
it's ensured
even if they aren't.
many thanks for reading, share it around if you like it!
 Jul 2014 Alexia Côté
Satsuki
I wasn't ready.
I wasn't ready for your emerald eyes to bat their way into my heart. I wasn't ready for my world to revolve around you. I wasn't ready for you to act like you cared. I wasn't ready to have you rip yourself away from me after I'd grown attached. I wasn't ready to try and develop a new habit to forget about my habit of loving you. I wasn't prepared for all the pain that comes from withdrawals. I wasn't ready to be used. I wasn't ready to be thrown away. I wasn't ready to battle these recurring dreams of me in your arms. I wasn't ready for my fantasy to be shattered by the harsh, cold, reality that you never cared.
I wasn't ready.
But who ever is?
why?
why did you leave,
when I needed you
more than ever?

how?
how did we become strangers,
when just yesterday we said
we would be running away
from the world together?

when?
when did you decide,
that I wasn't good enough
to help and fix you
like I always used to?

what?
what did I do wrong,
that made you want to leave
and forget me the day after?

where?
where did you go,
after you left me and
why was it more
important than I?

who?
who did you give my heart to,
after you stole it and ran
with nothing but broken tears?

why?*
why did you leave me,
with almost no explanation at all
and why did I ever think
we would truly be forever?

(P.A)
I kept on questioning my whole point of life since then...
The difference between
knowing YOUR ****
and knowing YOU'RE ****.
All Rights Reserved © 2013
 Jul 2014 Alexia Côté
mochiu
Media
 Jul 2014 Alexia Côté
mochiu
The magazine pictures tell us what we should be

Judging everybody by what's on their shelves

No one knows what it means to be themselves
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