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gray Dec 2018
watch me fall into your arms
even though they're made of thorns
all i can smell are the flowers.

watch me break down my walls
even though they're made of titanium
all i can see is hope.

watch me drown in your eyes
even though they're made of fire
all i can feel is the warmth.
guess what? i wrote in french class again! but i was listening to Smithereens by Twenty One Pilots this time. It's a good song, I suggest listening to it.
gray Nov 2018
a cloud is everywhere.
it's consuming me and drowning my mind.
it's suffocating me and making my vision blurry.
it's encasing me and forcing my body to convulse.
a cloud is everywhere.

and i can't escape it.
the final poem today written in french class. today has been a messy and emotiional day, but three poems that i'm pretty proud of have been produced. also,i went to the xmas light switch on in my town today and i'm just chilling with my ribena and wet hair, doing my drama homework.
gray Nov 2018
i was fire.
flames licking at my heart
burning me inside out.

i was fire.
heat spreading through my veins
flickering in my soul.

i was fire.
smoke clogging my lungs
extinguished by your ice.
also written in french class, because nothing makes sense no more
gray Nov 2018
you can stand and watch, spectate it all
but you will see my final fall.
i'll break and cry, fall to my knees
my eyes will find yours, begging please.
and when i land, i'll fall apart
and it's all because you broke my heart.
written in french class, cause i don't understand verbs
gray Nov 2018
loving you was
...complicated.

i was drunk off your affection and those times when
you held me close and whispered sweet nothings in my ear
and when we would stay up to midnight finishing the christmas film in march.

but here's the thing about alcohol
...it burns.

i was stung by your selfishness and those times when
you pushed me away because you felt like i was nothing
and when we would stay up to midnight fighting because i caught you with that girl. again.

here's the thing about you and alcohol
...you're both addicting.
**** you would never guess what's happened! me and my boyfriend broke up. it's ridiculous how much someone tells you how much they care for you and then they throw you to the side once they're bored. so all i have to say is ******* boo, hope you have a great life ;)
gray Nov 2018
so you may not be the kinda guy
who'll sit there and hug me as i cry.
and you might not even find
the whole idea of being consoling remotely kind.

so you may not be the kinda guy
who'll pop around and just pop by.
and you might not even find
that when i accuse you of something that you're tongue-tied.

and now i know you're not the kinda guy
who'll sing with me to fireflies.
and i can't believe i didn't find
that you didn't care about me, i turned a blind eye.
whilst studying an inspector calls by JB Priestley, i found Sheila and Gerald's relationship a pretty good muse for some poetry. so here it is: a poem written from Sheila Birling's point of view towards her ex-fiance, Gerald Croft.
gray Nov 2018
9pm I miss you.
10pm I need you.
11pm I hate you.
12am I loathe you.
1am I despise you.
2am I resent you.
3am I miss you.
4am I need you.
5am everything happened because of you.
just a daily reminder that your ex should stay your ex, they already ****** up letting you go.
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