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  Feb 2015 Mile Conde
Diane
You used to be
Someone I loved,
someone I cared about,
Someone I cherished,
and someone I held.

Forced myself into thinking,
that I will always love you
Even if the idea of the perfect person
I thought you were,
was gone forever.

I loved you,
But never had you again.
I held on to you,
But you pushed me away.

How was I going to live?
when my perfect dream became a nightmare?

Now,
I'll go forth.
To the happiness
That sought my worth.

Then, I will no longer regret,
No longer be lonely.

And have the courage to say that,
**"You're no longer my Robin."
Mile Conde Feb 2015
Why have I made myself hate me so much? Why are society's standards so incredibly high? Why won't people acknowledge ones true beauty? It's not about the flat stomach, ladies. Not the make-up, either. Nor the hair. Do you need extensions, fake nails or fake eyelashes to feel pretty? The whole messed-up idea is wrong. Why would you put funny-looking, plastic, artificial things on your body? Because we want to look nice. Feel nice. And for us, low-self-esteem girls, well... Lets say we want to accomplish our happiness by being eye-candy. And for that to happen, we have to change our whole selves, of course. Not any part of ourselves will do. We have to become a different person in order to be likeable. We have to be fake, giggly idiots who wear way too much make-up, fancy designers clothes, and expensive jewelry. We have to eat miniature salads to stay fit, and go to the gym everyday. On top of that, if you go to the beach you have to be lady-like and sunbathe all day long (the most boring thing ever). And there you are, amazing tanned body, incredible hair and impeccably dressed. But you know what, little Miss Perfect? You are empty inside. You are shallow. You have nothing left, apart from you looks and your expensive clothing. No real friends. No memories. No life. You were so worried working out and shopping that you didn't notice your life passing by right past you. And you are not growing younger as the minutes go by, sweetheart. One day you'll wake up and realize that you have nothing. Your life is meaningless. It lacks of passion. Love. Adventure. And you start to get wrinkles in the corners of your eyes and mouth. Your hair turns white and you skin is frail.
You can't sleep, for one thought haunts you:
*You haven't really lived.
Just the way it is.
Mile Conde Feb 2015
I am shallow.
I know I am.
I hate it about me
And I'm never good enough.

It's hard to fulfill
Ideals that belong to the past.
It's time to move on
It's time to do whatever you like.

But the chains won't loosen up.
And there's still a long road before us.
Will you be brave and go forward?
I don't think I can do it.

Neither do you.
Nobody believes in me.
Nor do they know what fuels me.
I keep getting up from the rough road.

Why do I do that?
Why don't I just let go?
I'm not strong enough to **** myself.
I'm not strong enough at all.

I'm a coward.
I can't take it.
My body shakes
My hands are trembling.

There's no way out.
Depression is darkness
That swallows me whole.
It drags me to its depths.

*It corrupts my soul
And endless night filled with sorrow and self-disgust. That would be my life.
Mile Conde Jan 2015
Sunrise.
Sunset.
Night and day.

Birth.
Death.
Beginning and end.

Why can't you see
That the ending
Holds just as much beauty

As the opening
Of the enormous play on stage
That is life.
Both beginning and ending are necessary.
The circle of life.
  Jan 2015 Mile Conde
axr
Raindrops felt like razors on their skin
She looked at him with eyes filled with tears
His gaze fixed at her
He leaned to give her another kiss
A kiss which sparked a lie she would live.
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