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giovanna Feb 11
inteiramente perfeito
tirava-me suspiros
és tão belo, tão doce
tal como uma miragem

com certo atrevimento
tentei lhe alcançar
porém não consegui
pois tal como uma miragem
você nem mesmo esteve ali
Adaptação de um poema que fiz em 2016, o significado é de se apaixonar por alguem que inventou uma personalidade, e na verdade, não era nada do que dizia ser.
Yemaya Jan 20
I'm in love
with the idea of it
the idea of someone
I pretend that you are the idea
That you are what I wish you were
But really you're a dream
my dream
Jayla Williams Mar 2021
This isn't the way it was supposed to be.
Things started out so perfectly.
We were so happy, our future set in stone.
Never would I imagine myself alone.

But time after time, you broke my trust.
What I thought was love, you felt as lust.
You locked up my heart but gave her the key.
I watch as you now love her and not me.

I should have known it was too good to be true,
But yet here I am, crying over you.
Now I am left heart-broken and betrayed.
How stupid I was to think you would stay.

You shared love with her, knowing I was the cost,
And I realize now that all hope is lost.
Side note: Your Perfect
Jasmine Reid Feb 2021
.
Am I in love or am I convincing myself?
I would be a fool to be either.
Maitsholo Feb 2021
Love.
It introduced itself
Its personality was charming
Its character was fun and great
Overall it was sweet

They fell for it

It was fake
It was an imposter
The real one went everywhere with
its brother Commitment
and its sister Loyalty

In the end
They fell with it
It only needed a partner in crime
The reason people fall apart once they've fall in love. It was never real coz commitment and loyalty was not there from the get go
hxzin Jan 2021
i struggle to believe anyone could
love me, because she
would only return my sentiment
in texts at 3am and on
intoxicated nights where all i
was, was a body for her to hold and
to plant kisses on high;
come morning time
she would’ve rolled over,
eyes closed, faced away.
im glad i never told her i loved her because
it would’ve been a half truth
a confession stained with bitter melancholy

hr.
on being used
Jasmine Reid Dec 2020
More fickle than the seasons
fragile like thawing ice

attached with a firm grip
clutching like a baby’s hand.

Desperate but never dangerous
susceptible yet not defenceless
acquiescent, though a fool.

They are the simpleton’s
that embrace counterfeit fables,
illusions of promise

And at the end
that makes them break
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