He was perfect because we could talk,
and laugh back and forth- obviously that's what I mean by perfect.
He, was perfect
because we could talk
then he believed the Crench, the very so named by me
(was me) the she, the all so thought beloved he didn't realize,
he started to hate because all she'd do is choose out of sentences
I told you in honesty that that exists I said,
(not that I'd mind him with other girls it's his life')
but to get me confused in the midst,
over she and her force feeding her my thoughts
Well why he said would you try for me after if this is true?
I said because she does such a good job at it I feel badly for you
not because I do now feel badly for you, not anymore
It's just such a sappy good bye,
I feel for you if you were going through a tough time I thought
I didn't think you would be to just be lazy about this,
and choose her for an easy me
I couldn't see that as a possibility
but the strain in you is nothing beautiful it's just content,
you just want it whatever sounds as it, to have it
but it's not real,
not satisfied.

© Clarissa C. van Vreden

PS It is such a Deep poem

I walk to a room,

bedroom by my side.

I sit down to eat,

with my friends.

As usual but not;

Because this new one,

told me I had a bad

mannerism at eating.

Basically claiming me

a *****,

So I tried to **** him.

Though not understanding ever

why he said, "you have
a nasty habit of eating."

© Clarissa C. van Vreden

It is close, and still for humanistic tendency is used to.
Riven up to complete uncared pain for it is they the beholder of no care to need care for such means?
Perhaps some out there; Doing, care for such means?
Perhaps some out there doing, care or do they not consider this doing- as it is a tool though and and any tool to have usage needs human to it.
To discover what man cannot is where it has gone array. That picturesque tendency can only show what is considered endurance. Whilst in the real World, art wins. A photograph is never the exact of reality besides it needs zoom in zoom out quality. Now if that can't hurt I only know of one other tool that can: The gun. Though no one wants to use that to use for harm, they say. In order to get proper viewing through the satellite it's like half pulling the trigger - you need the subject, so the bullet needs astray- and shut down, re-ignite.
It probably doesn't make you feel that good (ricochet)

What hath made you gear had made you unbearable.
What had seen geared need no evidence rather than usage alone.
What caused hint-age, will be that and that stand free. Freedom: Strife; Endurance.

© Clarissa C. van Vreden

You can be whatever it is
You can be lively
or deadly
Self lonely

You can be boring
You can be sad
You can be energetic
or fad like

So, going ahead with
you are my sunshine
you’ve been near my thoughts of death,
I’ve been alone
It’s been boring, and sad
although I’m energetic
roses are red,
violets are blue

this poem is to me- to you
i’m whatever it is

dear poem,
you are my sunshine my only sunshine
without you I’d be dead

I am alone
It can be boring and depressing: Life
Although I’m energetic
roses are red,
violets are rest,
rest in read

© Clarissa C. van Vreden

Limbo on a boat
went dim-oh-on-a-coat
Sinful on the loot
and non forgetful of the put-
Shine of liars, feud of party empire,
flings on dock
to mesmerize 8
Lying, down on silk wood - still,
seeking the stars as on appeared where art thou _?
Trees never tired,
plants: A fade,
whilst the flowers have had something to prove...

© Clarissa C. van Vreden

I was sitting drowning on a pencil colors of all sorts of red and yellow and green my water drew dim as the blue began to mellow I wasn’t wearing any gloves but I was naked and socks it was a small little puddle with lipstick smeared to purple my mascara drew thin as there came a glistening mellow below my cheeks made of the bluest droplets hitting the water bellow she started to cry as she realized, the epic part about this poem is that it was okay to cry in a puddle

© Clarissa C. van Vreden