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  Jun 2015 Bobbi Khadorian
I want her to read me
Like I was the never ending story
See the glory of my being
As I see hers
Touch the curve of my spine
Though leather it might be
And see inside
To the beauty of my creativity
Bobbi Khadorian Jun 2015
Why is it that you only text me
After you've called her 6 times?
What makes you think I'm okay with being second place or next in line?
Why am I plan B? Why do you love her and not me?
I'm much prettier than her and everyone, even you agrees.
I do things, that she couldn't even think of
Yet, why is is that when someone asks who you love,
It's her that you speak of?
When I'm underneath you in your car your couch, or your bed;
Why is it her, not me that's in your head?
It's because I'm just a *** toy
Something to ***** when your bored
No matter how many times I do what you want
It'll always be her you adore.

I should have known from the beginning,
I couldn't capture you heart
But thanks for the anguish
I need it for my art
My friend said I couldn't write a poem about heartbreak. I wanted to prove her wrong and this is how it turned out. My first attempt at a heartbreak poem.
Bobbi Khadorian Sep 2014
"Oh, My dear sweet child "* My grandma used to say
As she caressed my cheek , A look of love in her face
"Your Beautiful, You'll always be "
"Don't let no one convince you differently"
That's what my grandma used to say

"Oh my lovely little pumpkin" My grandma used to say
As she kissed my nose, A look of love in her face
" Your a work of art , You'll always be"
"Don't let me hear that someone told you differently"
That's what my grandma used to say

So when mean kids at school call me names
I try to remember what grandma says
But when grandma's not there to reassure me
I fall into the pits of my insecurity

I run home to tell my mom
She tells me "Sweetie just be strong"
But that's not what I'm looking for
I run to grandma wanting more,
Something to make me hold on
Then I remember grandma gone

The irreversible finality of death intrigues me so
How can someone just be no mo'
It doesn't make any sense to me
But the whole world accepts it . The plants, The birds, The trees
I guess that means I must accept it to,
but just between me and you

I'll never get it
I never had a grandma . But I was inspired to write this. :) Hope you like it :)
Bobbi Khadorian Sep 2014
Mirrors are Everywhere,
        When your trying to avoid them.
Store Windows, Toilet Handles
Reflections on doors.

I Do Wonder,
What do you see , when you see me?
Do you see the same me, I always despise to see ?
Or do you see a hidden beauty? One , That I can never see in me
Funny how people think I actually hold some type of conceit.
I could never be,
Conceit is a word foreign to me
Cuz in my head , An ugly face is all I'll ever be.
Maybe one day I'll stop letting you control me

— The End —