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Rhea Sheilah Oct 2020
I never forgot about you
May be I will never be able to
But one thing is for sure
Our paths will always be two
That I don't get in touch doesn't mean I have forgotten about you.
That I haven't forgotten about you, doesn't mean I want you back.

Some sentiments are better not acted on.
m Jan 2019
I was feeling
Really ****** tonight
But listening to Astoria
Has kinda made it better
It tells the story of getting over a break up
And sometimes
We need to revisit old relationships
And work through them again
I think that's part of being human
Astoria is by marianas trench. It's a beautiful album.
cleann98 Dec 2018
i'm hoping a sunrise
will someday dawn
and remind me
of how to view the horizon
not picturing in my mind
you being happy with
someone else...
how long is the sun setting for our relationship?
eva-mae coffey Jul 2018
the night of your disappearance
i cried a flood
and tried to drown myself in it.

for the next four weeks i mourned
the loss of you
greasy hair and no showers

just wandered around my house
no appetite
just sadness eating me alive

on the 31st day i worked up the energy
to stand for a half hour
to burn you off my skin

and to wash you out of my hair
i swept the dusty floors
and changed my cotton sheets.

washed my face, scrubbed my lips
of their outer skin.
how does it feel knowing now you've never touched them?
getting over you.
Olivia Daniels Mar 2018
You did it.
You made me cry.

It’s been so long too
    so long
I was doing alright —
    shoving stuff down
    because thats what im good at

But this uncorked a whole bottle
    of my Grade A Premium Tears—
    youre welcome by the way
    theyre nice and aged
    i know its your favorite drink

I wonder if you even know—
That you made me cry...
and if you do, then are you gonna apologize?
    because ive got stuff to do
    that wasnt just an excuse
        So... I mean, that wasn’t really called for.

I wonder how long you’ll take
This time.
    its never been that long before
    itd take longer if it was genuine
You’re good at saying sorry but you never mean it.
    youre like the opposite of my last one

Usually it’s, “I’m sorry, I love you, I know I’m a ****.”
And I say, “It’s ok, you are but I love you anyways.” —
    because for some reason i do
    i dont know why
    i probably shouldn’t, you really are an ***
    but like... youre hot
    and im *****
        I’m 95% sure I do love you.

I wonder if it’s you who made me mean?
    or if it was them
    theyre ***** too
Maybe I was always mean, and you brought it out—
    i wouldnt be surprised
    i can be a *****
        That’s why this is a problem anyways.

I do know
You made me cry
It’s been so long.
That angst though. I don't know why but I love it.
Paige Apr 2017
He called me beautiful
But he made me feel ugly
he hurt me
I can never be fixed
he denied what he did
But bragged to his friend
Is that all I am?
*A toy?
this guy thought it was ok to touch even when I said no. But this is not the first time something like that happened, and I hope it never happens to anybody
frankie Jul 2016
your eyes were the thing that got me hooked, the first dose of your drug. then, you made me feel special and worth something, the second dose; the addiction was growing. and as time progressed, my addiction grew and my vision became fuzzy, and you became all of me. that's when I overdosed. and now you're gone and I'm just an addict with a pen. I think it's time to become sober. my dear darling of a drug, this is where the pain stops and you become nothing but a memory and I begin to detoxify.
Why did she have to mend herself,
And pretend like everything was fine.
When no day passed without a sob,
As she lay drunk with wine.

She held the bottle to her lips,
And with every single sip,
It was as if she drowned again,
It was as if she waned away.

The memories blurred as the days passed on ,
As she looked for something to hold on.
But honey, you see, the days are gone,
When you could expect a shoulder to cry on.
You're better than this.
Ellie White Apr 2015
Some days, when the skies turn into dark, steely greys, and the rain pours down like the Gods are weeping, I make an effort to pull out the dusty box in the back of my closet. Within it, are memories that are better off forgotten. Everyone who has ever been a part of them, think that these ancient artifacts have been long destroyed, reduced to rubble, burned in fires too bright and strong to survive. However, these items, these photos, these ancient pieces from another era, another time, another life, are reminders of just how far I’ve come. I can pull out a hoodie, deep red, the colour of my blood on my sheets after you left and wrap myself in it to find comfort from the storm raging outside my window. You see, these memories are some things that may be better off erased and destroyed, but every once in a while, when the fragility of life is made apparent, you need to be able to pull out a dusty box, filled with belongings of your seventeen year old self, young and in love, fearlessly taking on and navigating the bumpy roads, of holding two lives in your hands, and working tirelessly to blend them together. You’ll fall in love again, maybe you already have, but you will never fall in love for the very first time again, and it’s important to physically be able to hold that too hot summer in your hands; where the weather only allowed you to sit by the water with the air conditioning on full blast, playing songs on a hand burned CD, talking about the future like you had a clue of what it would bring. It’s important to remember what being naïve and infinite was like. It’s important to be able to remember him. It’s important to let yourself remember him.
I still go to our favorite spot
The one where you kissed me for the first time,
Where you told me you loved me for the first time,
Where you promised me the world, forever.
That one spot, where you hurt me for the first time.
Where our passion fueled conversations turned dark
Where you finally gathered the nerve to tell me to my face
I don't love you anymore.*
Yeah, I still go to our favorite spot,
Even if it's not you I bring with me anymore.
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