You said you love me
Do you no longer love me now?
You'd say you miss me
Am i no longer the person you're missing?
You had feelings for me
Have those feelings fade away when i left?
Am i still in your mind?
Am i still the one that you love,
Or am i just in the past now.
What’s to differ when what differs doesn’t differ?
What’s special, when special comes not but by attention?
If we came the same way,
and we end the same way.
Yet I brag of what the Tombstone doesn’t highlight.
How am I special?
What’s unique, when all’s unique comes and goes the same?
My life is nothing but a worthless farthing,
Yet I brag.
As a child’s thoughts fade,
so is fame and works forgotten.
Reliving a person’s life is a waste.
That space has already been taken.
Leave your mark, and keep remarking.
Amateur Hustle Sonnet.
I’m tired of the gifts.
Mxm, why don’t you bring me you?
I’m giving my all. It’s still not enough.
Are you the wrong person for me?
I really loved you. I really did.
Loved your personality, I still do.
I don’t know when I stopped loving you.
I really don’t.
But what I had for you, was really dope.
Every moment with you, gave me hope.
Do I want you now? That’s a strong nope.
I hate dropping you.
But it’s time to be bold.
See now, you’re the past.
Time to see what the future holds.
Is love really this killing?
Or are you just an Undertaker?
I guess I have to take this with a grain of salt.
Even though you’re the one I ever sought.
Now I got a lot of things I need to sort.
You used to be the one I loved.
The one I never wished to see torn apart.
Now we’re torn apart.
Here, take your part.
I want you to feel the weight of what I felt.
I want you to know what a ‘No’ feels like.
I had a crush on you,
now you’ll get crushed too.
Ready or not. Watch me leave.
We’re a mess, it’s like an old weave.
This is not revenge.
It’s what you gave me.
One of those Amateur writings...
Completed: 29th December 2017 [22:43 PM]
Inspired by: Kwesta feat. Thabsie – Ngiyaz’fela Ngawe song.
and to wilt
parallel a flower.
and I flop.
but never flip.
I am decaying.
because they starved me
and corrupted my seed.
before i knew it
the fusarium wilt
was my disease.
someone could’ve cured me,
but instead of
into crumbs of
nothing but dust
that decided to fly away
with the breeze.
to wilt is to wither away into nothing.
and to go faint
as in, to become dull.
that whimsical light is
erratically the same
yet never enough.
it is distorting and
my ambience is
by the Eclipse of-
how can I grow
when no (sun)light is
raining unto my path?
witness as I go
from this vibrant color
to a washed out gray.
I stood in the mirror
with the girl who wears my face
and I watched it drain.
with death looming over
and no angel in sight..
to go faint would be to wither and drown in my own cries.
and to rot.
all day, around the clock.
I am that sad flower
hiding in your *** .
unable to be set ablaze
by the radiant light,
so I sit
and I wait.
I rest my leaves
it seems as though
I might be granted this reprieve.
and the truth is I was murdered
long before I decided to **** me.
I used to be
I was fresh
untouched by filth.
but now I am
like bread and milk.
so beware of the signs
for this infectious malady,
it might be contagious.
and in truth,
could be made for me
or so they tell me.
what they don’t understand
is I already tried.
I tried to comply
and I tried to rest my eyes.
yet the only thing prescribed
are these drugs
with the death of my mind
being the main effect,
on the side.
to rot would be to not only wither away but also to die.
Just like clouds on a rainy day
your gentle words fade away
your letters fade from black to grey
your smile slowly fades away
and one day you will also-
On days like these it seems like writing keeps the punishing thoughts away
All of the dark and depressing fears are kept at bay
So long as though my fingertips they go on display
Yes, I am terrified of death
Because I know it is inevitable
There is no life after death
When I think about it I feel a sharp pang of nothing
There is no envisionment of an afterlife
Of a paradise
Because there is none, not for me
Even if I believe in reincarnation
It doesn't stop the fear
Because all of my memories in this life
And if I stop writing now
These thoughts will invade and my conscience will cave
My passions are overwhelmed by my fears
Luckily they are just scattered days on my calendar
If I can make it through this one
I will make it through the next
I've been teaching myself korean for the past five months and Im already fluent enough to hold decent conversations. I want to be a translator or english teacher, anything to get me off this continent. I found languages are easy for me to learn, quicker than others, so it's become my passion.
you won't know me,
when the feeling all gone.
the feeling won't last.
it will fade.
like all others.
but, you won't know me.
do you even know me know?
sometimes in my spare time
made up songs
the lyrics never constant
in my head
but like fate should have it
stay for long
for once I'm done singing
away like dreams