I use to want to kill myself.
Sometimes I still have the same feeling of wanting my next breathe to be my last. I get scared that it may be by suffocation maybe by cutting.
All I know is that one day I’m gonna go to sleep and not wake.

                       With love,
                              Anonymous
Cece 3d
there's always a little bit of magic
in a last dance.
one that closes an era of joy or sorrow
or both or none.
there's hope in the way i hold you
hoping that maybe it really won't be the last.
but good things don't last,
can't last.
so instead i hold you
as tears stream down your face.
there's always anguish
in a last dance
to compensate for the magic,
for the hope
that it caused.
anguish buried under layers
of false smiles and promises
that maybe we'll see each other again.
and with that your pretty face turns
walks away with absolutely no confidence,
head hung down,
destroyed.
yet somehow i realize that,
with everything,
you've taken my heart with you.
so i'm left broken
without
you.
i was trying to make this happy??? and then my brain said absolutely not
El 4d
i cannot write anymore,
because my words only speaks for you, i dont know.
i just want to tell you this last one now,
you are the best thing i never had,
the best thing i almost had,
and the only thing ive been wanting to have,
even though i know i will never have.
Still you.
Clara E 5d
I remember being offered the same bed. It was a joke amongst friends, amongst friends who'd already heard my heart flutter when I'd brought you along for quiet drinks in the kitchen. You couldn't sleep without a smoke you said after everyone had gone to bed.

In the summer air I joined you outside, turning down the cigarette when you offered. Something about the summer haze made it only natural why I'd followed you out in the early hours.

We used to talk about our lives and our feelings and the flitting of people through them. I recall the grass being wet as you paced, insisting you were holding on for something better and it was coming, you just didn't know when.

Last year in that morning dusk all I recall is the content quiet, the improbable, the quiet of the garden as your company became the volume. This was never love, this was a collection of moments that put the bird calls in the day. Placed us in orbit around the sun. Made days feel like days and nights feel like night.

(Early fondness)
Within a year we weren't speaking but this is a fond thought.
Share your heartbreaks.
FreeMind May 18
She is madly insane.
He can't get enough of her.

He fell into a trap once he gazed into her dark brown eyes.
She hypnotized him with just one glance.
Nothing more was needed than a slight smile,
Her lips pressed together made him want to stay for a while.

He watched her dance under the rain,
Let her play with his hair.
There were no boundaries, no rules he could set for her.
She was free and he knew it all along.

He wanted her to stay but knew it wouldn't last.
He was sane.
And She was the reflection he saw in his mirror.
Because his sanity made her want to be even more
Insane.
#45
18/05/18
Karol May 17
I still think your a masterpiece
The artwork I could admire forever
But as every other beautiful piece of art
You don’t belong to me

Oh honey
it hurts like hell
To be standing here craving you

In the door of the gallery
One last look
with tears in my eyes
And praying that who takes you home
Will appreciate the art of you
Wanting someone so unattainable
Sara Kellie May 10
And in the silence that's often deafening, I hear my heart that still beats.
Reminding me of more pain to come, disguised as truths we are their lies.
After all these years there's no surprise.
Whispered softly into your ears, we are the makers of salty tears.
One day your heart, cold, blue and torn will cease to beat, when death is born.
Life's light will fade for one last time, up through the clouds your soul will climb.
A breeze from the graveyard whispers death but that's ok, I hold its hand.
A smile in the dark I understand, the effort you've shown, this was all planned.
Congratulations to you, my life is through.
Tired, so tired. Wondering if I have the right number. Waiting for it to be called.
Robert R May 7
One more day to be my friend here
One more day to be my color
Wondering how to define
It's over

One more day to make my summer
One more day for you to discover
Wondering how to see it's over
It's over

One more day to be another
One more day to be a lover
Wondering how to say
It's over

One more day to hold her hand here
One more day to pretend she likes it
Wondering how to deny
It's over

Watch him do what she likes
And I really like her too
Another angle, another view
Please save you

If she ever needed a thing
Done
Who knew she needed a thing?
Me

No way here
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