Be my words that my heart can't stand
Take a breathe and hold my hand for the
Last time I'll ever feel
Will be the last time I know you are for real
You guide me through the poorest daze
Of my classroom detention haze with the
Soft lull of your beating heart it's
Getting harder to fall apart however
When you're gone I don't want to be without
Your arms holding me I wish
That Heaven did exist but you know well if
Heaven was real we'd go straight to Hell
But this bond it is meant to be that
You and I were made to see only
Through the touch of your lips to mine so
Drink me up like a cup of wine and make it
Last until the end of time

3 AM type of girl expecting something more from a boy who barely makes it past midnight.

I KEEP TELLING YOU EXPECTATIONS ARE THE DEVIL, AND DISAPPOINTMENT WILL BURN WITH FIRE AT YOUR CHEST, DARLING.

"just go to bed because i'm basically talking to myself" she says.

*YOU SO TIRED OF PEOPLE BEING THERE, BUT NOT REALLY BEING THERE, SO YOU HANG UP, OKAY.

TELL THEM HOW CLOSELY YOU WOULD WATCH YOUR BATTERY DIE, TELL THEM HOW YOUR HEART WORKS THE SAME WAY, TELL THEM YOU ARE SO TIRED OF BEING USED, TELL THEM YOU ARE DEAD.

i did the best i could,
for who i was,
at the time.

this is not a poem
          
          

                       *just a mere

image
consisting of

                                         straight lines
and curves