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 May 2014 Jasmine smiles
romane
Shower — the place where I seem
To miss you most
I'll look into your mind
To see how you think,
Our love pours like a fountain
Into my cup I'll drink,
The sweet taste has been soured
By the fights we've fought,
Love is forever
At least that's what we thought,
Now i don't know where i stand
In the game of love
Am i nothing but a grain of sand
In the beach under the moon,
Before Normandy  is stormed
Our love is D-Day,
Would you have it any other way?
Trying to write after so long...
I can't make any good rhymes
Just cat, hat, mat, bat...
It's even harder to write relevant to the times,

I'll try some this and try some that
I might try too hard and fall flat-
On my face i mean,
Trying to write a poem that talks about me,

Evolve and develop my artistic ways
Trying not to get caught in the drug inspired haze,
I actually think i'm a little sub-par,
And that nothing i do will ever take me far,

But here's this poem,
Or rather my story,
About a guy that wasn't that great,
But yet still aims for glory.
Sitting up at the break of dawn
Memoirs of the suicidal,
I geuss my father is by biggest idol
I wanna be like him -gone...

Call me strange
Like i walk around with a tec nine
Because i'm gonna take what's mine
And no i'm never going to change

So keep talking ****
See how that works out
I'll take you far away where they can't hear you shout,
And upside your head's where you're gonna get split

Still stompin'
Still taking ****
Still getting hit
Still not slippin'
Sarah,
Sarah Sarah,
Sometimes I worry about you Sarah
That your heart’s too big, Sarah
That you’ve moved too fast, Sarah.
That you haven’t let your wounds heal, Sarah.
Do you remember, Sarah,
When your heart felt something for big for me, Sarah?
Then I broke your heart Sarah,
And you cried for weeks, Sarah.
For weeks and weeks, Sarah
Sarah, I hope you don’t forget it Sarah,
Because we don’t want you hurt again, Sarah.
Sarah, please don’t forget the past,
Sarah, please don’t fall in love
Too fast.
If you say a name enough, it sounds weird. Also an old poem I found in a portfolio from a few years ago.
 May 2014 Jasmine smiles
Franny
November 28, I met this girl.
She was broken. From the bullies that struck her with their words.

We got to know eachother. I got to know her favorite color, favorite food, favorite song.

Through out the the weeks we talked, I found out how truly broken she was. How words cut like knife, how she had demons inside of her.

I also realized that I was falling for her. I was falling for a broken girl. When I myself was a broken girl.

I fought with my feelings.
I couldn't be. I wouldn't be... Gay.

I found out she liked me too.

It drove me insane. Me liking a girl? Wanting to be with a girl? It was absurd. My mom would never approve.

Months later.
We're 5 months. 5 months of her being mines, and me being hers. 5 months of tears. 5 months of laughs. 5 months of love. 5 months of hate. 5 months of two broken girls trying to fix eachother.

Can we succeed or will more months pass as the little happiness we have left disappear. And our demons strengthen.

I met this girl. She changed everything.
Blah. Idk
She's different....
 May 2014 Jasmine smiles
ASB
he once told me that sometimes,
survival can be its own death sentence.
we are capable of withstanding
enormous trauma. we are capable
of breathing through it.
we still get up in the morning
and pretend that time will heal us
(but know it won't),
we get dressed and read the papers
and drink cups of coffee
and then we go to work,
acting like we still have something
to live for, acting like we should
be grateful to still be alive.
we do what's expected of us
and fake smiles and make empty
promises and resort to prayer
but nothing holds any significance.
"sometimes survival can be its own
death sentence", he said.
we're alive, yes;
but what's the point.
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