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lizie Feb 1
no
i do not
forgive you.

but please reach out.
lizie Jan 31
i always know it’s getting bad
when i start chewing on the tie of my sweatshirt.
i think it’s called an
aglet,
but all i know is,
it’s fraying like
me.
  Jan 31 lizie
mrmonkeylips
Turns out they were right
all the glitter
is not always gold
that some truths are better not told
that bad things
are more complex
then we think
that truth are more complex
that not everything is black and gray
that truth can be twisted
I give up
nothing I can do
the truth is twisted
and hate to tell you
that the truth
lizie Jan 31
i tried to make myself perfect for you
but love never bled the way i did
i thought if i carved enough of myself away
you’d find a reason to stay
lizie Jan 30
your favorite color is purple
your favorite thing is music
your favorite person isn’t me
lizie Jan 30
what it was like to be loved by you
was like knowing the sun would set,
but still staying out longer than i should,
basking in the warmth while i had it.
i treasured every moment,
even when the end was always there,
just beyond the horizon.
i knew it would fade,
but that didn’t stop me from wishing,
hoping it would never end.

in those quiet moments,
when it was just us,
i felt seen, truly seen,
like all the parts of me that were hidden
could finally breathe.
but in that light, i began to believe
i had to be something more,
to become someone else.
and so i did,
in ways that hurt,
really hurt,
just to feel like i deserved you.

there’s something almost bittersweet
about knowing that this love will fade,
but holding onto it even more,
praying it wouldn’t end,
never end.
lizie Jan 30
seventeen feels like a standing in a doorway,
too old to go, too young to stay.
it’s realizing you’re easier to reach than you thought,
but still, no one does.

seventeen feels like the silence that comes after sending a text,
but never getting a response.
like looking across the room,
only to meet his disgusted gaze.

seventeen feels like things are getting serious now
but you’re not ready to accept that.
it’s the ache of knowing you’ve outgrown this place
but you’re simply not ready to let it go.

seventeen feels like boys that love me
but they wouldn’t if they knew me at all.
loving one that’s only falling apart,
who took a piece of me with him when he left.

seventeen feels like knowing you’ll miss this,
but not being quite sure why you would.
this is the first time in a while i had enough motivation to write a longer poem.
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