i say it ironically because *******. ... i hate swearing i hate irony i love you a lot it's hard to keep on avoiding the things that crave me the most that i crave the most i'm not as sure minded as i seem i don't ever know how i feel which is dangerous because every "i love you" isn't necessarily true even if i think it is people have stopped mattering only time matters i don't have much left things are going downhill i'm rolling down a hill like i did when i was little except i can't stop there is no bottom the thorns in the grass are piercing my skin without permission and and and and and i forgot to say and connect me to you like the "and" that connects "you" and "i".
"Sweet dreams," My parents would say before we went to bed.
If only. For my dreams Were nightmares Grotesque, twisted monsters Would run after me In a dimly-lit forest Only to have A car come by suddenly And run over me Causing my organs to burst And blood to stain the ground.
They said, "May your dreams come true!" Forgetting that Nightmares Were dreams too.
The thing about most love poems is that you never know who they're talking about but you always have someone different to connect it to than the author did. I find it beautiful.
when we reminisce about our childhoods we laugh at the lies the kind of lies we don't fully regret but there is one lie that is just too cruel for me to forget it wasn't curiousity that killed the cat it was the hand that trapped it in an airtight bag