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Lillian May Dec 2019
Dear T,

You always used to tell me you were the devil, that you were heartless,
And I’d always chuckle, say “No you’re not!” And kiss your cheek.
And the truth is I really didn’t believe you, and I never saw you like that.
I think I truly did see all of you, but I focused on the good, and I thought you appreciated, and maybe even loved, that about me.
But maybe I was wrong because, hah, well I broke up with you, I thought amicably enough.
I had closure, I recognized that maybe we just weren’t right or good for each other.
But for whatever reason you felt the need to start **** up again. You knew exactly what to say, what to do, how to act, and I was yours yet again. For some reason you were my achilles heal, and I’ll be ****** if you didn’t know it. I loved you so ******* much. And I truly wanted to believe the best, I fought everyone off, including myself, who thought your intentions were questionable. You knew I would. You knew.
And I hate that you were right. I hate that I said yes when you asked to paint, I hate that when you asked me over I came, I hate that when you said  you needed me I believed you. Maybe you did need me, but you certainly don’t care enough to love me the way I loved you.

I hate it all. And though I’m trying not to, I hate you. I just don’t understand WHY you wouldn’t just stay the **** away from me. Why did you have to tell me all the things you did, made me feel like the most important person in the world, and then toss me away when I was inconvenient for you.
If you were lonely, why not find someone else?
If you didn’t know what you wanted with me, why didn’t you just wait till you did know?
Why did you have to drag me along when you KNEW I would hold on?
Other than the fact that you’re a selfish *****.

I understand you were leaving, that you couldn’t make any promises, maybe that you were confused. But you are the kind of person who can see 4 steps ahead and predict outcomes, so you can’t say that you didn’t know how I would act.
You’ve called me predictable so you can’t say you didn’t know. So all I can wonder is why. What good reason could you possibly have had to yank me around like that, and take advantage of how much I cared about you?
Do you just hate me so much that you didn’t care what would happen if you hurt me?
Was it just simple apathy?
Were you bored?
You can’t say you didn’t think because we both know that’s impossible for you. You always have a move, a goal.
So what was it?

I guess thats all I have to say.
I hate you, I’m trying not to, but right now I do.
And I truly do not understand why you came back. I don’t understand your goal.
Maybe you truly were just bored and are, in fact, heartless. Maybe everything you said about caring about me was a lie, maybe you just wanted to mess around with someone and have decent memories. But why the **** did it have to be me?
*******.
not really a poem. Just a letter. sorry this doesn't rhyme, isn't really even all that pretty. just a collection of thoughts
Riz Mack Feb 2019
I know what you like
I see in your eyes
They glow with your light
Come play with me
Tonight
Feel the heat rise
Bleeding inside
The beast comes alive
Come play with me
Tonight
You know what it's like
You know it won't
Make it right
I can shut out your light
Come play with me
Tonight
Continuously channeling Chino

In physics, there are four conventionally accepted fundamental forces or interactions that form the basis of all known interactions in nature.
Some physicists speculate that a form of dark energy called quintessence could be a fifth force.

Clearly, they're way off as it's obviously lust
Masha Yurkevich Jan 2019
It pains me
to see
someone being treated
so poorly.
Everyone
should be treated even.
After all,
everyone has an opinion.
Everyone
has feelings and
everyone
has the right to keep on dreaming.
Right?
Saint Audrey Apr 2018
Classic trepidation, stationary with the aura of
Coincidence, slit myself and call it skyward thinking
Sinking feelings that argue for a sudden resignation
Conscientiousness, leprous and typesetting

Intimate knowledge that I disclose verbatim cannot, and should not, ever be used against me.
Interest infected through wavelengths, non responsive partly cause of the rupturing that's been running through my dreams.
Scant as fixes to the problems, overblown and oft forgotten, lisping when I speak of this Epiphany.
Taxidermist furnish houses, howling wolves that get devoured, sounds like God and hell and them finally worked out peace.

Just cosmetic, slightly pathetic the ease at which the mind elapses
Classics retconned till nothing's left except the years of influence
Invested in the melancholy, snobs lobbyist and in distant memories

— The End —