Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Amanda  Nov 2013
I Forgive You
Amanda Nov 2013
Don’t say sorry.

I reach down to the grass and snap off the stem of a daisy.

The sweet tang of it seeps into the air.

I give it to him.

“See, can you understand now? I cannot sew this.. daisy back. I simply can’t. I cannot put it back together or let it wander into its niche; its sun dappled world.”

Unforgiving silence fills in the blanks of all the words we wish to say.

I step closer to him.

“But you know what, when Spring comes in 365 days, after 525600 minutes of rain, grey skies, ice, hail, sun, blue skies and clouds, it will come back alive."
nica Aug 2017
365 days gone
8760 hours, since you've been gone
All these months that passed by
I love looking back on the very first day, that was a Wednesday
When you texted me and I didnt even know who you were
Just your name written there on a piece of paper
A reminder to me
That all you could be
was trouble

But then we met in person
And i saw no valid reason
To avoid you: your kindness and niceness
All i was at that time was emptiness
Just keeping afloat along the strong current of life
There you were, the calm that unexpectedly came to me

We became close instantly
Like we've known each other our whole lives
I spilled out to you about my past
You did the same, we both support each other back then that the past will pass

So it did.

I loved you since that night when I was in the hospital and we texted till I need to sleep because my nurse caught me still awake
We talked then about how things would be once you left for Canada
Or maybe Ive loved you even before that
But I was just too afraid to admit
Because you were another "anne"
Because you'll be leaving too, soon, just like everyone else Ive ever wanted to stay
Because we were friends, you were the closest to me that time and I cant risk our friendship away
Because I was too scared, had always been, scared of loving and being not enough to make someone choose me and stay

Then 22nd September came
I was surprise by your somehow confession
I cant help but smile even though it's just a week before my grueling board examination
My friends told me to brush you off, you'll only be a destruction
But my heart thought otherwise, it saw you as an inspiration
So even though all the odds were against us
I took a chance, we both did.

We were happy, or I thought we were.
We had our own share of problems mostly started by me
I was still adjusting to this long distance thing
But you made me happy, you made feel loved, you made me feel emotions I havent felt in a long while
It was a summer to remember
Even with all the fights we faced, we're still together
Your words still ran through my head
It was a night before classes start
"Im gonna miss you" you said
"I'll miss you too" I answered
And just like before you rode that plane, we promised to make ends meet as I walked into a new journey

June came, pressure came, reality came
I have everything I ever wanted, all at once
Stable job, money to support and make my family happy, and of course you
But I was too confused, too afraid
I was so used on being sad
I was so used on losing things
That when everything Ive ever wanted came
I didnt know how to keep them, especially you
So I acted badly
All the pressure I was feeling, I turned it all to you
You were like my absorber
But you have your limit too

I regret every wrong doing Ive ever done to you
I regret taking you for granted
I regret everything I wasnt able to do to make you stay
I wanted it to be you
I badly wanted it to be you
I dont know how 2 months can ruin a strong 8 months
But then it happened
Youre gone

Here I am
525600 seconds passed
Still having wishful thinking
Dreaming of you, here
not there
Not that far away,
not to be the one that got away

Lots of could'ves, what if's, shouldve's
They all hold me on, telling me not to move on
There's no difference a year has made
Maybe I still need one or two or God knows how many just to forget you

But right now, all I know is, youre my favorite past.
The past that made me believe in now
and the future

And if in the future, we see each other one more time
With my feelings not changing a bit
With your name, echoing in my heartbeat
Dont resist to ask me this:
After all this time?

Always.

It will be always.
It will always be, always.
Arfah Afaqi Zia Aug 2015
1 year,
365 days,
12 months,
8766 hours,
525600 minutes,
And
3153600 seconds.

Tick tock, tick tock,
Time has passed.

Despair,
Remorse.

He died,
Seems like ages.

I cry a lot,
But never have i stopped missing you from that day.

The day they took your coffin away,
Leaving behind decay !

I've been counting all the days,
And it now has been exactly 1 year,

I'm far too late to say this,
But I love you,
And I will always miss you.
PERTINAX Jun 2017
How can one year seem like ten?
Is love just a form of multiplication
Stacking seconds on top of minutes
To the point that each hour
Somehow violates the laws of time?
Or does the weight of our hearts
Bend the very fabric of time
Creating such gravity that our
Beats move like a wave throughout
The cosmos?

To the outside world we appear normal
Whereas the seemingly everlasting days
To them seem brief at best
For our love is anything but general
It is special to the extent
That the faster we move
The heavier we become
As we grow and learn together
Within the shared experiences
All contained within one year

365 days
8760 hours
525600 minutes
31536000 seconds
Of the special relativity
Between us and the cosmos
Happy one year Anniversary to my queen and fiancee, Tara <3 I love you!
ShadowMan24h  Jan 2015
2014
ShadowMan24h Jan 2015
1 year of depression
12 months of sadness
52 weeks of tragedy
365 days of hopelessness
8760 hours of darkness
525600 minutes of loneliness
31536000 seconds of hell
And now the cycle restarts
Mateuš Conrad Jul 2021
love struck... hovering a body... time is probably
the best perspective...
i look at her in her agility and full blossom: naked
and i wince...
if she was anything less than the Eiffel Tower...
god... that summer when i jumped into the deep end
and paid Paris a voyeurism...
if only i had a bicycle to weave the labyrinth...
i've lived in London for most of my life...
travelling into the central forge of: what's happening
always ended up a claustrophobic affair:
emerging from the tube to pinpoints...
on the map... Marble Arch and toward the shisha parlours
on Edgware Rd. with the flat breads
and the balaclava: baklava throwing events...
pop up somewhere in Soho... or Camden...
anything south of the Thames is like...
seeing the coming-and-goings of York...
so little tube... the moles didn't bother with
the south of London... trams thrill the people
associated with Croydon...
i look at her naked body... of course i'm
so drunk that... i'm on my second try for a hard-on...
no... it's not happening...
she's playing the timid girl i'm already lost
to ms. amber stealing my hard-on...
i'm soggy-digestive thoroughly...
but my hands are still hard-on... i close my eyes...
and turn her body into an Atlas...
of braille...
that was my first attempt...
a complete *****-less failure to get what
i paid for...
later she would come back at me with
******* pigtails...
but this Turkish readily... available: giddy-up
sold herself...
this supposed pursuit of happiness...
last article i read was about a girl in prison
who committed suicide:
the line read: why should non-aggressive females
not be put into prison...
so i guess... i'm not guessing...
i'm out... they already turned my brain into
a chemical soup...
we can just cage the males...
anything lawless a woman does is:
minor... a minor scold...
it requires... justice with... pampering...
primal defect of a woman: no character building
mechanisms in place..
the collective: harem-esque sisterhood...
who wouldn't want to play the second fiddle?
or rather... the nativity play...
you're the kid in the shadows...
given a major part: playing the rhythm xylophone...
the idiots play the Jesus Mary & Joseph...
all the idiots have scripted lives...
all the better... there has to be an undercurrent
with what's to be grasped as:
the staging of / for life...
god... no russian orthodox icon...
perhaps some chants of the templars...
no building... all the pretty ones end up...
frothing at their mouths descending into ***-work...
they're the prettiest ones...
not wife material: if the motto of the Englishman
should stick: last time i heard it
i was a teenager...
don't marry a pretty one....
marry a woman no other man might want...
horrible how beauty can decay in its prime...
while all these girls playing glass-house:
all-see-no-touch of only-fans...
well... that's not much fun: i'll be creasing my whole-body
****** one way or another:
whatever this self-imposed... ha! self-imposed:
celibacy coughs up...
***-starved for... 3 years... 4 years... 5 years...
i lost count...
but i'll milk this sacred cow for what's it worth...
the first 120 minutes i was too drunk
but she didn't speak much English...
and... we ended up hugging... kissing...
Romanian words for: freckles... eyelids...
eyes... nose... collarbone...
i'm milking it...
what's the other 30 minute done perfect
with a nymphomaniac... showing off her tongue
while slapping herself with the phallus?
no timid mare: 'ere...
*** that was fun *** that was a revival...
*** where i didn't have to bother
about pleasing her:
since forever... it never worked for me
to please "her":
*** that made me forget a 13 year hang-up...

- how many minutes are there in a year?
"apparently" 525600 of them...
big number... how many are there in...
knit-and-pick... how many are there in...
3... 4... 5.. 4... years..
    2.102e+6.... ****... we're going into
exponentials now...
without the tenderness of hands only
a cyclops can offer... Polyphemus dire moi...

2102400...
    2102400 ÷ 30 = ..
               2102400 ÷  60 = 35040
35040 hours @ £120 per hour:
**** me... i'll need to insert comma breaks
in terms of earning: if i had twice the stamina
of the Spartan 300's enterprise of:
what Henry VIII's failure bore...
she would have earned... £4,204,800...
that's not chasing pillow-fights in calcium mines...
all this... from merely *******...

eh... people have lived through much more:
much worse...
come to think of it...
the Teutonic Knights had a brothel
in their citadel of Marienburg: Malbork Castle...
they also lived through events where
there arrived a concern for
grouping together...
i find no release in this sort of an outlet...
being met...
society is thinning: concept or practice...
i'm not bemoaning the fact:
the placebo of solipsism of either
ha-shem or ha-satan:
how indistinguishable it all seems:
it only requires me to peer at what's
being spectated...

a boy should grow up within the confines
of dogs... should he be struck with...
being a solo-project...
whether by Chinese-State authority or
by the Chernobyl accident that prompted women
to drink iodine...
but as he ages... cats... fickle creatures...
personally... i absolve myself from having
wish to either witness or use...
the leash or muzzle...
as fickle as cats are...
i'm glad to be able to ignore them...

all the best looking girls go into prostitution...
what remains are beached-whales
men pass around with the motto:
marry someone no one will steal...
tha conundrum: keep them locked up in a niqab?
how did a few keep so many
while so many can't keep but a one?
i don't want to understand it...
i want to walk into the sea...
swim toward Norway... and drown...
while wrestling with a storm...

at the supermarket...
i was already walking back to the self-checkout
with a bottle of Pimm's i was owing...
a tease of a bottle of whiskey
and a bottle of Pepsi...
god help me: god help her...
this tiny tween of a... sugar-daddy prospect...
she must have been this years
cherry picking... converse attired...
smooth attired with all her skin...
am i... somehow... justified taking?
she had to meet up with me at the self-checkout...
all toys and sweets:
per juice concentrate...
gummy bears... she looked as much fun as
any sexually legal female might look...
of course she'll follow suite and ****
the next degenerate scooter boyo-fancy...
the west is not worth conquest...
it can be simply undermined with:
what's the current "fad": anti-racist chocolate-chip
hard-ons?

hello walking abortions...
hello living without the gruesome love for winter:
extension of the refrigerator...
i'm not going to invest in mere DNA...
i'll suffer... so no future will be minded...

how the "left" suffers... the ethnic origins and
upkept uniqueness of
baboons... macaques... gorillas...
but "we"... as humans... are somehow
a "together" project... together project
in alliances with the placebo Olympic:
except towing the ultra-liberal white woman...

******* proselytes...
under-miners... covert globalist *****-spunks!
all the best looking ones
go into ****... the remains are... that's
it... remains... father children with a mediocre woman
then relapse into chanced beauty spotting
at architecture...
while... David... the King...
psalm baron... Solomon has as much wisdom as is required
of a man with a harem...
i'm not envious... back then there was no
blue-pill hard-on...
so most of the women fiddled with
make-shift ******...
oh please... i'm not harrowed:
i am: the harrowing!

how did this agony of 16... turn up at the
self-cashier...
with all her *****..
i swear i was only armed with a bottle of a lirre of
Pimm's... a litre of pepsi
and 35cl of ms. amber...
while she synchronised herself
with... gummy bears... excess of sugar:
the height: heist antithesis of **** *******...
such a youngling...
such a "petty" creature to behold...

she was... pure... sugar... pure ripple of
an agony of what tends to be used up...
not by me... but by some...
fortunate: leeching leprosy of "morals"...
but if the ***** will eagerly give...
who am i to complain: "as"? god?#

i see a full moon: i blink... i whine...
i gather up my "toys" for a refreshed concept of:
assault...
it's new... the whole concept of trans-racial
inter-breeding...
how the father figure is best portrayed by
the mulattos...
unless of course he might be absent..
half's a half...
but towing "forward"...
we're the bleaching people genes...
the sandpaper antithesis...
your bi-racialism is my my bilingualism...
look at me! hey pretso!
no hyphen included!

i have a mouth and tongue for an eye...
two eyes that become two mouths
with two tongues...
and a brain that has turned into
a massive impression of....
gauging at... the concern for an ear
and an "inability" to "hear"...
   what's... "silence"?

the late... latest advent of Darwinism....
the macaques vs.
the baboons... monkey contra monkey...
no man: man is: this unified "quest":
she''ll **** anyone:
chocolate chipped honey bear:
p'ooh bear...
thank god i'm not not allowing myselfg
to be breeding...
it's not like my d.n.a was sometho=ing
speZial...
  
the white girls can have all their ****-conteent:
look at them: gobble gobble: the death of winter...
perhaps i'm a man...
and i'd entertain....
lemon ******* Thais...
tirade... her ******* Katakana brigade...

i guess it comes down to:
these woeb ===== web...
women... attempt to teach me... something...
merely.. mandolin ownership is not enough
to forget about the world... forget about i...
here i am... lost to a tide of grievance...
full moon my inquisition
of the tide... leverage my lost "battle" for the lake..
grieve frothing
at what becomes of the swan...
Lomond come... the most pristine sunset.
come to "think" of it... i die... happy..
i live: most waiting.
j benji Dec 2018
12 months
52 weeks
365 days
8760 hours
525600 minutes
31 536 000 seconds
Yet why does it feel like yesterday that you were with us
This is no dedication to my dearest friend
We were not that close, but you were so dear, my friend
I feel selfish
Shedding tears
I never shed tears
An expert in the act of bottling your emotions
The  Picasso of self pain
The Da Vinci of doubt
The Apollo of apathy
Yet that phone call popped the lid
My brother on the other end end was struggling to get a word out
You two were always closer
I said nothing
Like the soul that had once presided inside me took a smoke break
For the rest of that my face leaked
Control leaving with my soul,
like some divine power carelessly forgot to close the taps in my head
I guess there's no drought where it's from
The next day I was told I looked radiant
The luckiest to have gone to the beach they said
I guess the salt of my tears was still fresh
The luckiest to have been able to smoke **** they said
My eyes so red I could barely see
I forgot that remission was temporary
That a year cancer free means nothing to the powers that be
I have never had you on my mind
And your passing hasn't changed that
But that makes nothing easier.
I know Dylan's in the double digits
Yet that name is burnt with your face
I am sorry
Sorry that we grew apart
Rest well my friend
Oxalayo

— The End —