just over looked me
that small

she did make my head big

with imaginations


we haven't even talked

she wrote to me

then it was like she thought I had girlfriends

she was confused

that's ok

we get confused sometimes

is this an poem

are your stupid


she probably

she her'd
Jaycee Dec 2017
I didn't want to hate you,
but I'm trying to accept that I do.
There's no way we will fix this,
you're not the right personality type to.
Every time I hear you I feel so sad and angry. I just want you to go away.
He couldn't see just how much she loved him.
He couldn't see the beautiful thing they had was dying day by day.
He couldn't see the bottle of jack was killing him slowly.
He couldn't see his wife's heart breaking piece by piece.
He couldn't see the tears she cried.

He didn't want to get help.
He didn't want to let the bottle of jack go.
He didn't hear her leave with the unborn baby in her belly.
He didn't see what he had until it was gone.
rose Jun 2017
Can i go back in time
And live again?
This time with my eyes open
RK Apr 2017
A Butterfly
by G. Eustace Owen

A butterfly rested upon a flower,
Gay was he and light as a flake,
And there he met a caterpillar
Sobbing as though his heart would break;
It hurt the happy butterfly
To see a caterpillar cry.

Said he, ’Whatever is the matter?
And may I help in any way?’
‘I’ve lost my brother,’ wept the other,
‘He’s been unwell for many a day;
Now I discover, sad to tell,
He’s only a dead and empty shell.’

‘Unhappy grub, be done with weeping,
Your sickly brother is not dead;
His body’s stronger and no longer
Crawls like a worm, but flies instead.
He dances through the sunny hours
And drinks sweet nectar from the flowers.’

‘Away, away deceitful villain,
Go to the winds where you belong.
I won’t be grieving at your leaving,
So take away your lying tongue.
Am I a foolish slug or snail,
To swallow such a fairy tale?’

‘I’ll prove my words, you unbeliever,
Now listen well, and look at me.
I am none other than your brother,
Alive and well and fancy free.
Soon you’ll be with me in the skies
Among the flirting butterflies.’

‘Ah!’ cried the mournful caterpillar,
‘Tis clear I must be seeing things.
You’re only a spectre sipping nectar,
Flicking your ornamental wings,
And talking nonsense by the yard.
I will not hear another word.’

The butterfly gave up the struggle.
‘I have,’ he said, ‘no more to say.’
He spread his splendid wings and ascended
Into the air and flew away.
And while he fluttered far and wide,
The caterpillar sat and cried.
It was in the words he didn't say

The way he moved

Something of a sexual fulfilling void

I wanted to be

S o m e t h i n g

M  o  r  e

Still, his innocent like presence

R  i  n  g  s,  &  r  i  n  g  s

In my head to come out & play.
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