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When you were a kid, you were given 2 choices: "you can make this easy,
or you can make it hard."
Only to come out realizing no matter which one you chose, you'd wind up covered in scars.
But it's OK. You couldn't have known.
And I'll tell you a secret. Everyone has scars. They're proof we've grown.
These scars don't have to scar you though. Just call them by their name, and let them go. The names you won't soon forget,
these scars are named mistake and regret.
Crow 2d
in a room of unimaged beauty
with curtains woven
from threads of unused dreams
and carpets embroidered
by imaginings of crumpled poetry

songs of hope and fantasy
are left unsung
written on blank pages
carefully laid on the piano
whose keys are all black

here is served perfect tea
in exquisite porcelain cups
each place set with polished silver
giving no reflection

the Things That Might Have Been
are the only guests
they appear in their seats
translucent and shimmering
gaining solidity
staring at their perfect tea
in its exquisite porcelain cup

but they do not drink

if two materialize at the same table
they gaze at each other
with pleading eyes
needing with all their fragile existence
an answer

reasons may be exchanged
but not one of them ever
has an answer

they dissolve
hoping to return
for an answer

leaving behind their perfect tea
in its exquisite porcelain cup
The autumn rain is falling
    With teardrops from my eyes:
I cannot help recalling
    With sobs and long long sighs

The days are gone forever,
    The golden days of yore
When love was love forever,
    Yet love was never before

With rue my heart is laden:
    Adieu!  Adieu ma chère!
There’s many a rose-lipt maiden,
    But none so fair as fair
You call me "honey"
you call her "honey"
you call us "honey"
are we a hive
ready to be plundered
a treat to be
ripped apart
feasted on
did you think we
would we all taste
so sweet on the tongue
did you think
none of us
would sting

Nicole Sep 13
burning in the flames of regret
carrying the burden of non-existing debt
slowly losing hope of being free
for the memories are still haunting me
i'm sorry. i was still a kid back then.
Deep Thought Sep 2
I think about our memories intermittently.

They still haunt me.

Especially the bad ones.

Thought about writing you another letter,

but the chances of you not reading it are high.

I've needed to give myself closure.

I did love you but it was wrong and I could never love you in the ways you wanted.

In those moments,

you were my best friend,

someone I counted on.

Now you're a distant memory,

a counterfeit mirage.

I've written about you,

I've talked about you,

and now it's time to forgive you.

Forgive you for what, you might ask.

Forgive you for breaking me to pieces.

Discarding me like one of your toys,

and acting like I never existed.

I forgive you, Claire.
For if ye forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you - Matthew 6:14
Mia Aug 27
I will pour my love into you,
Saving myself no emergency reservoir,
Deeming you deserving as soon as
You said you "have not felt love before".

I will forget and forgive in a second,
to enable me to love you more,
and treat you like you walk on clouds
All because you said you have only ever experienced prickly affection.

I will hug you tightly with love,
and you will swamp me with yours
grateful to have someone to give it to.

I will fall for you,
harder and faster than I have ever fell before.
Unaware that I have been pushed
by your claims of inexperienced love.
I have a habit of loving people because they say they need it.
Cold-Bones Aug 15
I can see my faults in the ceiling every night
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