Fatigue for breakfast.
Exhaustion for lunch.
Dinner was a bowl of captain crunch.

Sleeping kills too much time,
That I thought it redundant.
But maybe I'm just avoiding the plunder
That's nowhere near subtle,
When you burst into my subconscious.
And rake nostalgia
into piles of sentimental movie clips
that could only make me weep.

Nostalgia is incessant.
It victimizes the past
And reminds me of all the things
that didn't last.

Fatigue for breakfast.
Adrenaline for lunch.
Afternoon tea was a joke.
And dinner?
You're a humorous bunch.

you're not my pen
you're my paper
you're not my heart
you'll be its breaker

i'm not sorry for drawing
i'm sorry for scrawling
i'm not sorry for calling
but i'm sorry for falling

She’s cute.
She’s funny.
She took my hand.
She apologized.
She’s beautiful.
She’s not mine,
Not anymore

You told me you loved me,
But I merely shrugged.
You kissed and hugged me,
But I simply looked the other way.
You told me you'd stay forever,
But I believed you.

Some people get over break ups by shoving their face with ice cream, crying a river and watching sappy rom-coms. Others wait until it hits them like a ******* on a bike who's been waiting for decades.

And I am the latter.

You think our religion has too much of an impact because ours are two polar opposites?

Fair enough.

You want me to send you a message at 2am, declaring how much I do, indeed miss you?

Done.

Don't for a second think because you deem our love to be some sort of unconventional type mean you can leave it at that and ******* off.

Don't you dare let the thought of me moving on pass you by because *****, the breeze God sent my way is strong enough to blow your feather-light *** off my mind.

But, then again, you might not think that. You might have moved on too and I'm very glad that you did.  

Not that I have any influence on your person, but I want to see you smile. I want to hear that laugh that struck me the very first time I met you.

It's funny, because I cannot, for billions of ******* years, wonder what it is like to see you with someone else.

But it's probably because I'm selfish

and I'm helpless

and I'm out of your life and

I'm not over you.

I can't love this person,
because I am not allowed to.
I am bound by social standards
and prohibited by my parents.
I don't kiss this person,
because I am not allowed to.
I can't love this person,
because she's a girl too.

Silenced by the pressure of social norms,
Hushed by the fear of being judged.

Who's to say love takes many forms
When no one can accept us?
Who's to make our future
When everyone is holding on to the past?
Who's to change the present
When we are still too scared of it?

Being together was never easy
Because our religions made it queasy.
Don't even get it started with our friends
They didn't have a clue about us fiends.
So we broke up
And locked our feelings up.
In a small box called nostalgia,
That hollers at night for ya,
And digs up things you want hidden
Especially things that were forbidden.

How long will this stay a secret,
The pining, the crying, the weakness?

A hug.
A kiss on the cheek.
Left you smug
And me- weak.