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It's
not a
one sided
love.


It's
just that,
You love me less
and
I love you more
Mystic Ink Plus Feb 2018
Isolated Philosophy
Here, state nails them
  
Declare, Martyr.
Theme: Then, nothing matters.
Florivee Jan 2018
I want to feel how people who know how to love feel. I want their hearts, the fulfillment when they waited so long for someone who never showed but they just cry. Their hearts always hurt but they don't have the heart to hurt others. They know that everything hurts more at night but they stay up late, anyway. They're in the middle of a war but they don't fight. It's torture, that the hands they hold on to are the hands that waved sideways, fading into untouchable air, telling them goodbye. It's hard, that they think every goodbye deserves another hello.
I don't understand. So i just look up to the sky, wishing, that in my next life, i get to be the one who loves-- the one who doesn't live waiting for someone to love her back.
yne Oct 2017
Roses aren't red,
Violets are not always blue.
You tried to save me from my demons—
but the devil was you.

With bare hands
my soul he tore,
but I love not the man less—
I loved him even more.

Screams on the counter,
blood spilt on the floor.
Sobbing with torment,
what hope could I ask for.

I've accepted your thorns,
let them pierce through my skin.
For staying is my valor
and loving you was my sin.
Bianca Reyes Oct 2017
I'm a martyr
I've never seen it as kissing your body
It was kissing my faith
I'm a martyr
My desire burns like a witch at the stake
Causing hysteria within you
I'm a martyr
Copyright under Bianca Reyes
Blah blah blah
You know the deal
Pearl Sep 2017
At first she thought it was
as easy as counting one, two, and three.
But then it changed to climbing a tree,
where a fruit she adores ripens once in a week.

She would climb up no matter how tall it was,
with scratches and bruises she didn't mind.
She was happy for all her time,
despite the scars all this while.

How was she in the remaining days
  without the fruit on her hands?
She took care of the tree on her own  
giving all her might; didn't leave its side.

But one stormy night, while she slept
at the side of the tree she couldn't live without;
her skin full of scars, the heavy rain touched.
She was deaf by the thunder, and then lay still when lightning struck.
Written on 12:23, Oct. 5, 2016
Sam Jul 2017
Hope depleting
Heart beat fleeting
Cast astray
Void taking over
Numb to the touch
Cold at the skin
Crushed by the pain
A life lived in vain
There is no escape
Chalk and yellow tape
A hero, not pretend
Now has met his end
Em MacKenzie May 2017
Wind is whispering my name,
calling me back to the depths of the dark.
I'll be there all the same,
looking to play the part and make my mark.
With all pain I've felt,
it's time to finally set the stage.
Live with the cards that are dealt,
start a new chapter and turn the page.

My life is loneliness at best,
even when surrounded by another soul,
and that feeling crushes my chest,
I forgot the price but I paid the toll.
You're here, and I'm there, when close there's still distance,
feeling fear, it's only fair, at least it is in this instance.

My skin, my skin is cold as ice.
I'll jump in, and make the same mistake twice.
It's a sin, but the sin feels so nice.
Who will clip our wings?

The dark and ***** street,
the one I used to see as home,
they still greet my feet,
but different paths I seem to roam.
With all the pain I've seen,
it's time to now roll the credits.
But I ignored the picture on the screen,
or maybe I just wanted to forget it.

Your lips, your lips are paradise,
I'll jump in, and make the same mistake twice.
It's a sin, but I've never claimed to be Christ.
Who will clip our wings?
Jayantee Khare May 2017
Losing you is not an event or occasion..
It continues, happens over and over again..  

I lose you when i see a bike like yours..
When comes the favourite tv show of yours...

I lose you when i see your childhood pics...
Your proud uniform and your p.o.p. clicks...

I feel like holding you and kissing you...
Loose you every night i start missing you...

I lose you when i cook your favourite food...
I loose you with my deserted motherhood...  

I lose you when i wake up in the mornings...
I still clean and arrange all your belongings...

I lose you when any brave heart is killed...                                                        ­                     When the void in  someone’s life not filled...  

I lose you when i find the pen.. your toy...
Will keep you alive in my writing O my brave boy...

-A young martyr’s mother’s voice
Killing of young army offcr by militants at kashmir.......shaked me to write this
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