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Aquinas Nov 2015
You
Where are you from?
We don't get along

Could
Be the dagger
You placed in my heart yet you

Bring
Me to a different
Point of peace

A
Pleasure I can't find
When down on my knees

Danger
In your eyes
I now realize

I
Mixed up my lies
For the truth this time

Never
Thought to think
About what you wanted

Saw
Signs but didn't
Care to know, was just being honest

Before
I make my depart
I must say, "I'm sorry I broke your heart."
Aquinas Nov 2015
"Do you wish to go back?"

'Back where?' I find myself asking. The voice seems to echo throughout this blackness where there is no ground nor air.

"Do you wish to go back?"

The question booms ferociously like the lion's roar above the mountaintops, making those in the quiet valley below pause and shake.

"Do you wish to go back?"

'Oh, you're still here? I thought that if I stayed quiet you would go away.'

"Do you wish to go back?"

'Back where?' I find myself asking. 'Back to the times that I wished the letters that spilled out of my lips tumbled into different words than what they came out to be?'

"Do you wish to go back?"

'Back to the times where I felt quarantined when in a group of friends? Back to the times where I felt the grass wrap around my ankles to root me in place? Back to the times where I heard the leaves gossip my name?'

"Do you wish to go back?"

'Further you ask? I assure you that's not a time that I would enjoy going back to.'

"Do you wish to go back?"

'I do not know.'

"Do you wish to go back?"

'Will the words I said make sense? Will I not feel so trapped in my groups of friends? Will the blades of grass release my feet and the whispering cease from the abundance of leaves? Will I find love, happiness, or defeat? Will I find something that makes sense to me?'

"Do you wish to go back?"

There is a pause, a stillness in the dark. I wish to speak but I feel that I have no words left. I am the letter in an envelope of shade, swallowed by the surrounding shadows. Then it comes, I feel the ground beneath my feet and air above my head. It slowly churns from my stomach up to my mouth where I then said,

"I wish to go back."
Aquinas Oct 2015
I can't hear his voice without my forehead burning up in a fiery cold sweat of both lust and fear at the same time.
His existence is something I can never be a part of anymore yet my body is so used to the acquaintance of his being that I can't hold myself back from trying to be in his life.
I shouldn't exist in his existence: it feels like bad religion, a sin I can never forgive myself for, but the euphoria I experience when I commit this sin is a stunning sort of infatuation, I never want to leave his side, though I don't believe I was ever there.
He used to care,
he used to notice,
he used to be able to tell when my feelings were bare.
Now I am here,
two seats away from him.
I try to joke, to communicate, and he smiles lightly, but
the glow from his eyes is not as bright for me, anymore, as it is for everyone else.
I ****** up.
English class is boring, let's write about boys instead
Aquinas Sep 2015
I went biking at sunset
And the yellow and blue clouds reminded me of you
I felt your presence as if you were there too
And if you were I'd be whispering soon
"I want to be in love with you like the sky loves the moon"
But you're more like the sun
And I am just Venus
It might not seem like a lot but there is great space in between us
I need to stop falling for boys that are nice to me
Aquinas Aug 2015
There's a bubble in my chest I can't suppress
An eerie feeling of being watched when no one's around
The quivering under my sheets that screams "unrest"
So under the covers to faraway dreams I'm bound

It feels so real
So lovely and ethereal
The warmth of his hand in mine, my heart beating faster as he smiles so sublime
The overcast above sounding like love
And the grass is really greener and the water much clearer
The sky so bright with the wind just right
We lay on the ground, my legs tired from running around
He looks at me I look at him
I feel complete, and for once not so dim

Then I wake up
Feeling the warmth of his hand slip away, still seeing his smile as if he stayed
The horizon is grey with that somber blue hue
And the grass isn't as green, and the water not so clean
The sky is dim with a subtle, chilling wind
I lay on my bed, my mind tired from running around
I look at my hands and try to understand where I am
I feel incomplete, and once again still dim
Aquinas Jul 2015
I am the moon and he is the sun and when we get together we have bundles of fun

He doesn't read the newspaper or drink caffeine 'till he dies while I cook breakfast and fix his tie
I don't clean the house and ignore his lies while he's upstairs in bed with someone else's wife
He does however like to go on long drives, surf through the desert with wide amber eyes

I do conclude that I enjoy this as well, being in the passenger seat as the radio tells:
  Of the news you can't read in the newspapers
  The health hazards of drinking too much caffeine
  And the scandals that go on beneath politician's sheets

We like to feel free for a moment
Away from the commotion and buzzing omens
The people that say "It will never happen, you're over and done"
But I am the moon and he is the sun, and when we get together we have more than just fun
Aquinas Jun 2015
Depression is the teddy bear you get as a little kid that you still seem to keep around as a bed decoration no matter how old you are
You sleep on it
Cry on it
Squeeze it
You're never able to let it go
It clings to you like an old memory that you never want to forget
You feel sick for loving it because you feel you've moved on
But you haven't and you think about it every day and you can't sleep because it stares at you in the eyes every time you try and whispers "no one cares" and you eat it up like your favorite left overs

Anxiety is the spine you carry in your back that bends and twists in ways you never thought
You feel agile and alive but other times it's a burden that weighs you down and you feel you could snap at any second
People try to help you but you bend over backwards trying to fix yourself but it just never ******* works so you blame yourself thinking you cannot be saved

Paranoia is the constant fear I have that all my friends aren't my friends
It's the feeling that all the right people hate me and all the wrong ones praise me
That looking at him and his friends makes me so jealous, I believe that he never wants to talk to me again that I'm just a problem, a text that he rolls his eyes at whenever he sees it's me messaging him

And the worst part is that it feels like home
When I'm engulfed in the thoughts I have when I'm alone I can't help but smile because my problems are all I know
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