pondering against
the complexity
of depression
and boredom
and wisdom
is something
i like to spend my wasted time
doing

i am a hypocrite
but who is not?
irony irony irony
i can't wait to rot

sometimes
things can happen
and the things that happen
make you smile
but often
these things that happen
are things that make you
regret them
after a while

please dont ask me
to be yours
please dont call me
beautiful
please dont look at me
in that way
please dont say
you brighten my day
i like you lots,
really, i do
but i dont know what
i want from you

she liked it
when they looked at her
she didnt feel as though they were noticing her flaws
as many others do
she gave herself to them
innocently, devilishly;
a promiscuous shadow of her sober self

if i had been alone
when sat upon the swing
would you have come and talked?
about so many things?
you play that **** guitar
and sing those ****** songs
yet still you seem so far
and i am always wrong
you give an odd impression;
you're complex but black and white
the happiest depression
the daytime of the night
yet the girl who holds your heart
is small and tanned and right
you know i love your art
i hope you know i write
i wish you all the best
you idiotic prince
maybe i'll see you next
quivering on the sink

you were sheltered in your ways
and looked at me intently
you were kind and you were cute
and treated me so gently
you held me in your arms
and showed obvious respect
you kept me safe from harm
and lightly kissed my neck
i was yours for a short while
in return, you mine
to you i was not a child
and you gave me all your time
thankyou for making me smile again
you really cheered me up
this time i'll try to smile, and when
you want, i'll pucker up