Her kind of lonely wasn't the kind you just feel
It was the kind of lonely she went searching to resolve

It wasn't out of the ordinary to find her roaming around
looking for traces of him in the dust on the china cabinet
or in inanimate objects around the house

it wouldn't be peculiar to hear the lull of his favorite love songs playing through the thin walls of her one room apartment.
or to see her wipe away a tear as she opened the door
and invited you inside

It wasn't a rare sight to see her folding up the clothes he had left behind
Or typing paragraphs upon paragraphs of things she wished she would've said
Unfolding his clothes
bunching them up
throwing them in the corner

I can still see her hiding that stuffed animal he won for her at the fair
stuffing it in her closet
burying it under a pile of clothes and her own broken promises
entombing it deep enough to forget

Similarly, I still see her hiding the guilt she had found
I see her shoving it under her pillow
burying it under stardust and her own nightmares
keeping it close enough to remember

It wouldn't be bizarre if you caught her refolding his clothes
just 'one more time'
Putting them back in their drawers
Texting him
deleting the text before it sent
debating throwing out his old toothbrush

I remember quite clearly a time when she drank twenty bottles of water
all in succession
just to feel full again
I remember her holding her breath
until she'd turn blue
claiming she missed the way he took her breath away

Her kind of lonely wasn't the kind you just feel
it was the kind of lonely that drove her to insanity.

They tell me love is blind,
but before  I met you I was resigned.
If love is not able to see,
Then why can I see the happiness you brought to me?

In the darkest depths of my mind,
The sparks of love defeats the dark trimes.
When the lonley bird chirps at me,
All the broken pieces I breed.

Break away, In a breezy haze,
As the bird acknologes my prays.
The bird sees my lonley thoughts,
Swoops to me, lonley memories naught.

One day, When the birds are gone,
And my sanity has all but torn.
You'll be here by my side,
Holding my hand and letting me hide.

Love is delicate,
Like a flower.
My love for you grows and grows,
Like a translucent tower.

I remember as a child being overly excited for my birthday
every year I wouldn't be able to sleep just counting down the hours
When I did eventually fall asleep
I was quick to rise the next day
My mom who worked over nights
Would call me in the morning to send me blessings and good fortune
She was always the first person to say "happy birthday"
I've always loved my birthday
Because it was the one day I truly felt special
Felt wanted...
Now it's my birthday and I can't sleep
But not from excitement
But from reoccurring insomnia
My mom called at 12:02am
But she wasn't the first this year
a boy named "A"
Sent me a picture of his *****
And said it was my "gift"
(Isn't that sweet)
The Moment she said "happy birthday" I bust into tears
I'm glad she didn't hear me cause
I wouldn't know how to explain to her
How broken I feel
How I've thought of
death a million times
in the last hour..
This year I don't feel so special
I don't feel wanted
I feel drained
Fed up
tired
When the sun rises
I plan on buying enough drugs to numb my pain
Listen to the same song on reply
And hope that the day fades quickly
Happy Birthday to me.

B.oF

If all I had was but one day, I'd share it with u in every way. I'd hold you so tight and show you the world, ill be your one and only girl. Till death do we part

Out on the breakers
Eyes in the sea are watching me
But seals never speak

The sea birds are gulling
Always they argue over shells
I know how they feel

Long across the heath
The piebald mountains cradle me
But snows, they only whisper

The stationary stone village
Is thatched in chalk and grey wood
Happy in branch without trees

She fears that he is broken.

What he did to her did not break them.
What he did only cut her;
deeply,
scarring,
stinging for years afterward but not forever.

He is afraid he will be alone,
but he doesn’t know,
that people who burn inside,
people with scars that no one can see,
are loved by those,
who are meant to love them.

He has lost the hope that people are waiting to love him as desperately as he is waiting to be loved.

But they are.


They will not think,
that he needs to be fixed,
or that what he goes through,
is too much for them to handle.

They will never see him as too weird,
or a burden to love.

They will only see his smart,
talented,
quirky,
beautiful self.

They will not see any other him that he is afraid of being.

They will love him.

he will be loved.

He is lovable.

I know because I love him.

I still hear your voice sometimes. Or maybe I'll feel your hands running through my hair, your hair. I look
Like you, I have so much of you in me. I wish you could watch me grow, but you'll never know me. I didn't know you when you died.. I knew the person you used to be. I still miss you sometimes. The pain isn't getting less worse, just less heavy..