Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Alexis Robson Feb 2016
little do you know,
that my heart is breaking,
as you're sound asleep.

little do you know,
my thoughts are drowning,
in our memories.

little do you know
i stay up late at night,
wondering why you did
this to me.

little do you know,
i'm trying to put myself back together,
piece by piece.

little do you know,
i forgive you,
but forgetting,
is a different thing.

little do you know,
that I love you,
but the pain is killing me.

little do you know.*

-a.r.
Alexis Robson Feb 2016
i hate small talk.

i want to hear about your childhood,
your favorite music,
your favorite memory,
your darkest secret,
your worst fears,
the little things that make you smile,
what keeps you up at night.

i want to talk about your life.
***,
drugs,
love,
alcohol,
i want to know it all.

i want to know what you think about,
late at night at 2 a.m.,
when the darkest thoughts start to creep in.

i want to know your goals,
your future plans.
i want to know your flaws,
what makes you insecure.
i want to know you.

i don't want small talk.
i want you.

-a.r.
Alexis Robson Jan 2015
you wage a war against yourself,
because,
you only see what you want to of yourself.

people notice the change in you,
but,
they trick themselves to believe it's not true.

each day is a battle without gain,
and,
your mind is clouded with constant rain.

your light slowly starts to dim,
and,
you forget how to light it again.

you begin to lose the war,
and see no reason to fight anymore,
but all you need is one win,
to bring all this sadness to an end.

but sadly,
you lose again.

-a.r
Alexis Robson Jan 2015
You were broken when you were five,
It's no wonder you were struggling to survive,
When your only support is a crutch of self-doubt,
How can anyone expect you to figure yourself out?


You lack the tools to fix yourself,
So you tend to turn to someone else,
To hold and guide you,
Always coming to your aid,
You forget the loneliness you felt when you were eight.


But using people as crutches is naïve,
Because eventually they get tired and leave,
And now you're ten, but left again,
Struggling to figure out how to fit in.


People come and go,
But you become wiser and grow,
Soon you're sixteen and have loyal friends,
And you realize there's no point in trying to "fit in".


The years fly and you turn eighteen,
And realize time has floated by like a dream,
You've learned to be your own crutch,
And that you used to overthink too much.

But life has taught you a lesson,
That you cannot use people as your medicine.

-a.r

— The End —