I could write poems
on your neck
and along your chest
with my lips

I could scratch poems
into your back,

I want to breathe
my poems into you.

You broke my ******* heart.

And you did it from the comfort of your own ******* garden.

While you had a *******  cigarette.

I was curled into the corner of a ******* bathroom, so no one could hear me cry.

I don't ******* cry.
But since then I can't ******* stop.

I can't ******* deal with this.

Why the **** did you do this to me?

I ******* hate you!

Please come back...

He told me he is giving her roses.

The boy, who yesterday I finally admitted I love.

The boy, who the day before that , kissed me.

The boy, who a week before that told me I was his forever, and I said the same.

The boy, who has my heart.

Is giving her roses...

He made sure to show I belonged to him.
And of course his trade mark,
was a bruise.

I hope you never reach
The day
Where you are lost for words
Because they're tangled up in
Agony.

I hope you never reach
The point
Where your innocence of
The world is
Robbed.

I hope you choose
Your friends and
Lovers wisely
So that you never have to
Discover what it feels like
To see those who you believed
Would take a bullet for you
Dance behind the
Trigger.

"does the sky look odd to you?"

"no; I've been waiting for the day that the clouds would finally part and be able to speak to him for me, for the day that I wouldn't have to fear that a storm would ruin my chance of a kiss, because now the tables have turned. the sky can scream and rain all the words I've never been able to say to his face and I can lean over and whisper 'we're through.'"