You say you love me But cut me to pieces with a heart-shaped cookie cutter You say you treasure me But throw me away like a half-dwindled candle, melted like butter You say you'll never leave me But push me aside like the old typewriter on your desk You say you want to give me everything But take all the love from my heart and I have nothing left You say you trust me But when I try to unlock your heart all you give me is a rusty key Darling, you say you love me But you only say and never be
I wrote a poem inspired by the words heart-shaped cookie cutter, half-dwindled candle, and a rusty key. Hope you like it!
I used to think I was different special weird but I'm not I read and paint I sew and write poetry I look after little kids and I love I'm a gay 15 year old with a girlfriend I watch anime and read fanfic I roleplay and cosplay but so do my friends I am just like them I'm not different I am a cookie cutter just like everybody else and after telling myself I was weird for 15 years its hard to be normal I don't know what to do I want to be different but I'm not
What's weird? I don't understand the concept I thought it was paramount to be yourself I thought it would be normal to be your own creature Even if doing that didn't necessarily equate to obtaining massive wealth Please explain to me what being weird is?
I thought being an individual person was how we stopped being cookie cutter humans like we were put together on an assembly line It's fine that we are different and split apart
They told us we must go It's the opportunity of a lifetime They said But how do they know? Do you see them here? Among the empty stares And crowded stairs Do you see them here?
So why do we all feel Like we brought them? They're here with us In our minds Filled with equations and Latin translations And these people They are there too, aren't they? Seeping into our thoughts
We don't want them there, But are they the only reason we're here? We tell ourselves we came To get away from them But I think we all came To bring them with us To show that even though we are gone There is where we belong.
We are all out of place So out of place, in fact, That we fit together perfectly Like a puzzle Each piece a part of a different picture But shaped to fit each other Redefined cookie-cutter children That's what we are
The dough of our minds Has already been sliced But everyone tries their best to be different So they paint pretty pictures To display what is inside You are holding my brush What do you see? Redefine me.