I think the saddest thing to happen to me
Was falling out of love with you.
Being in love with you-
Entranced, obsessed, consumed
-Was such a part of who I was at the time.
Everyone knew I loved you,
Some knew you still loved me too,
I had people asking me about our story
Because they loved us just as much as I did.
Noticing you weren't my storybook prince
Was like losing a piece of who I was.
I'm sorry that I hurt you.
You put on a front that nothing could phase you
But I'm sure it must have been painful.
I got what I wanted, I'm not sure if you did
I'm sorry our reunion was also our death.
You were so afraid I wouldn't love you.
You'd never been with a straight girl
As a man before.. but you're all man to me.
You're strong and resilient,
Handsome and kind.
You can be a pain in the *** but in a good way
And I keep coming back for more.
You were so afraid I wouldn't love you
But I fell in love with you hard and fast.
Every inch of you is a new piece to love.
There are a lot of pieces you hate and
You still chose to share those with me.
Hesitantly, but I think you learned quickly
I love you anyway.
It's been a rocky road for us, you're going
Through a lot of changes and I've found myself
A bit stuck in the middle of it all
But if you can love me the way I love you then
Our rocky road is my yellow brick path.
I thought I was helping
but I never did
I pushed you until
you couldn't take it anymore.
I wanted perfection and
thought you were it
so when you weren't
I couldn't take it either.
we both died a little,
you died a lot,
but I'm sorry I pushed so hard
I nearly pushed you off the edge.
I hate how words can drop your mood.
The plummet of my stomach with
A single text from you.
Words are only lines, you see
A scribble shouldn't make me scream.
What makes me feel beautiful is makeup and hair dye.
I love to paint my lips a bright pink, but I get upset
When that is all anyone sees.
I work on my physical appearance so much,
pasting my hair down perfectly, making sure my
eyeliner is symmetrical.
I get angry when no one sees what my personality can be
but truthfully, I don't work on that half as much as I work
on my outward appearance.
Maybe my insides aren't beautiful enough to compliment.
Maybe my hair is the best thing about me.
Maybe I'm not worth what I think I am.
Unless you count my "beauty."
Raising is a feeling
I've never felt before
Not one of love
But one of gore.
I can feel it bubbling
From deep inside my chest
An aching need to *****
To give myself a rest.
I know it wouldn't help much
Problems would still be there
But maybe if I focused
I'd stop focusing on despair.
I knew he was the one when
He wanted to grow plants with me.
He didn't want to buy me a rose,
He wanted to grow me a garden.
The offspring of our joined love
And a living representation
Of our beauty.