Excuse me if I write my style,

Excuse me if I shoot a smile,

Towards your direction,

I can't help but question what went wrong,

And excuse me if I stare for too long,

I guess it's true, what I said about you being so beautiful,

And every time I write a love poem it hurts,

Like a thousand needles stabbing me at once,

But the one that hurts the most is the on that shoots my heart,

Cause I remember the time we said I love you,

I remember the late nights, with some but not many verbal fights,

It was like, we were on a cloud in flight,

Moving just right,

And every night I say it to myself,

I lost the most precious thing I ever gained,

And you took a chance with me, to let us be,

But I guess another go is too much to ask for,

But know I still think of you, still dream of you,

But if I can't get you back then this thing I felt was not real,

Will soon be,

Cause i am here and your not next to me.

she just wanted to feel pretty
so she sliced her wrists to ease the pain
the blood was a beautiful sight to see
than lipstick pressed on lips with vain

"one day", she said "one day i'll be
the one so perfect, the ideal, the real me
with the body, the face, the skin and hair,
the ones who called me ugly, will never dare"

before she could even break into a smile
her eyes stopped moving and her mouth went dry
with the very last breath that left her lips
her body went lifeless, and so she died

n.j.