#option - Hello Poetry

a heart in flux a change in motion from hatred to love always the better option

0

Apr 23

Apr 23, 2026 at 9:17 AM UTC

nivek

from hatred to love

a heart in flux a change in motion from hatred to love always the better option

6

I love you in a way that feels bigger than I know how to hold. But every time I look at you, there’s this quiet fear sitting behind the feeling— like I’m already bracing for the moment you walk away. I know I’m not the only girl who gets your attention. I see it in the way you talk, the way your focus drifts, like your heart hasn’t picked a place to land. And I start wondering what they have that I don’t. What they can give you that I can’t seem to be. I love you so much I have dreams about you. But in every one, you’re standing beside someone else, smiling at her the way I wish you’d smile at me. I wake up with that same ache— loving you, but feeling like I’m already losing you to people who haven’t even tried yet. I don’t want to compete. I don’t want to feel like an option. I just want to be enough for you to stay.

0

Apr 22

Apr 22, 2026 at 10:43 AM UTC

Luvly_Dakotah

Am I Enough?

I love you in a way that feels bigger than I know how to hold. But every time I look at you, there’s this quiet fear sitting behind the feeling— like I’m already bracing for the moment you walk away. I know I’m not the only girl who gets your attention. I see it in the way you talk, the way your focus drifts, like your heart hasn’t picked a place to land. And I start wondering what they have that I don’t. What they can give you that I can’t seem to be. I love you so much I have dreams about you. But in every one, you’re standing beside someone else, smiling at her the way I wish you’d smile at me. I wake up with that same ache— loving you, but feeling like I’m already losing you to people who haven’t even tried yet. I don’t want to compete. I don’t want to feel like an option. I just want to be enough for you to stay.

31

I like you more than I planned to, more than I meant to let happen. And I tell myself I’m being reasonable, that I don’t own your time, don’t get to claim your attention, don’t get to mind who else you talk to. But I do mind. I notice the way your phone lights up, the names I recognize, the way your attention drifts like it doesn’t belong anywhere for long. I don’t want to be selfish. I don’t want to be the girl who expects something that was never promised. But wanting you to choose me first, wanting to be the only one you give that smile to— that’s exactly what selfish looks like. And maybe I am. Because liking you has turned me into someone who hopes quietly, watches closely, and pretends not to care when I really, really do.

0

Apr 13

Apr 13, 2026 at 9:43 AM UTC

Luvly_Dakotah

I Know I'm Not The Only One Pt.2

I like you more than I planned to, more than I meant to let happen. And I tell myself I’m being reasonable, that I don’t own your time, don’t get to claim your attention, don’t get to mind who else you talk to. But I do mind. I notice the way your phone lights up, the names I recognize, the way your attention drifts like it doesn’t belong anywhere for long. I don’t want to be selfish. I don’t want to be the girl who expects something that was never promised. But wanting you to choose me first, wanting to be the only one you give that smile to— that’s exactly what selfish looks like. And maybe I am. Because liking you has turned me into someone who hopes quietly, watches closely, and pretends not to care when I really, really do.

26

i hate the process of getting to know each other, if you loved me you would know that you want to be with me. you are simply playing, playing with the choices. i’m not a option, i am free.

0

Apr 26, 2025

Apr 26, 2025 at 5:27 AM UTC

ireneci_

process of love

i hate the process of getting to know each other, if you loved me you would know that you want to be with me. you are simply playing, playing with the choices. i’m not a option, i am free.

8

And finally she walked away from the waiting shed called option.

0

Jul 22, 2022

Jul 22, 2022 at 7:14 AM UTC

shanghai_

..-. .-. . .

And finally she walked away from the waiting shed called option.

1

I hate it When death becomes An option I like it When death is not The only option

0

Jun 19, 2022

Jun 19, 2022 at 6:09 AM UTC

slydosted

Options

I hate it When death becomes An option I like it When death is not The only option

6

If one can't understand The world With two legs Stand on one One will

0

Aug 26, 2021

Aug 26, 2021 at 4:27 AM UTC

mystic-ink-plus

Case Study

If one can't understand The world With two legs Stand on one One will

5

The event, perhaps advent, first ever any thing, where nothing had been, not a thought. I think. Then, when nothing was over and everything we know now, began, light was not the first thing, the idea was. Be for Yes. Word one. Hmmmmm or um or am it may have been, I heard from a transcribbled myth or a legend as old as any meme-level memory mortals have made-up from remaining tidbits taught to any next gen thing. Look. Assume light is as fast as the expansion, couple of Planksecs, and it is at the edge of ever, never before, never busting beyond the bubble we be in, dead center, the physical middle of ever, continuous now, nothing to stop us imagining we, disagree, now, after all's been said and done, and things run on, de iffing chaos as the live evil force itself, ever teaching any mind co-operation in time… swirling beauty in bands of invisible galaxies, barely seen even now, we see what we are told we see, enhanced and expanded to original intent, at the scale of precision, which now requires of those who wish to know truth init's entirety, faith in the wits who invented the lenses we imagine we see through into-ity ever ……….. This day began this way. Everything already, readable, as it were, once, with us, before our story folded, stapled and refolded and bent to allow the data-based mass enlightenment I deal with now, mere data, knowledge, knowns known more than I may think or ask, available on our distant viewing apparatchik network of nova sensorium's newest equations that balance at perfectly predictable infinity… or do not work. Pop. Bubble after bubble falling through the quantum foam. Come on home. Live and learn, do the math. Or wait to see somethings never mattered up to now, and now, you know, you did, some how. That's good. ------------------ here we are, after all. On course, of course; here has more spectrums to be on. here has more curves to miss, here has turns that twist us back to now, sudden- seeming now, still wow is near the only value add we ever hope to hear. Cold or hot or just right, fine sifted patterns from the echo, wa wa wa did we get so serious we lost the place we held positive on a negative pole, an aberrant position erring ever from the straight point to point pattern of pro gression to non aggressive agreement in the we we were - per haps, as babies we were thought coyotes, little devils of trickery wu, so we were swaddled in goat' wool, to provoke this itching and pre vent this whole idea, you thinking wild, unpacked unglossed abnormal canine thought… like a dog, dreaming of the chase. ------------ ---------------------- Only chase real rabbits, that's Greyhound wisdom. Pookas are always worth the chase, real or otherwise, if you see one, chase it. -------------------------- On the bus, or off, Cassidy was a character, sure as any in literature, an archetypical untamed man, crazy, by most accounts, possessed with a wish to die young, and be famous for ever having been a penniless drunkard's form of a man, an unnatural scion of lost and beaten men. ------------ So, that spirit lingered… in my past that ran to catch me here today, in the pattern recognizant aha, I know this voice… I knew that spirit, merry prankster splashing in Burro Creek, before the bridge existed, oblivious to quick sand my mother warned me to be aware of, as she had learned the hard way, …remember there is solid rock below the mud, hold your breath. --- a new me -- Burro Creek, survivor of the crossing, since ever was. ------------------------ Survival is always good news. Mission accomplished, it is finished, fini. Peace on earth, good will to ward men {wombed and un}. That is a message, an angel, judge it. They call that The gospel, in my realm. It is finished is considered grace. The truth makes free, grace makes useful. Infinite grace, with a bit of funny math for making nextifiy tests, t' keep the kids sharp. -- slow lane -- this is… The good spell, I tell my self I know. News, from nearer than we can imagine possible, posited in a place called here, at that point, nearer than we thought, here where I exist, the ego me, floating on that same old ocean of opinions, lapping at my shore. This must be that sea, they think is where all eventualities congregate to wait for everything to finish the pattern, to the nick in the stick that told us when to begin, this once, once more. I was convinced. I was never invincible, to my defense, I built the wall that hides my best from pride's envaluing scheme, best of the lot, without spot or blemish, make this the one we take, leave the ring-straked, spotted and speckled. Holy is pure. Pure is white. Uh-oh. This is where we find the stragglers, carrying the cross of Jesus, while marching, as to war. We sang that song in public school, when music was a given need each allegiant took to heart, Onward Christian Soldiers, -- mind wanders ---------------------------- 7 trombones, and 10 clarinets led the big parade, with one bass drum marching as to war, to destroy what Jesus did not finish, followed by the lesser corps, of boy scouts, with only fife and snare. Then came the grand equestrians, all who owned a silver saddle, passed as knights from when our fathers stole this land. My family had the contract to follow up with shovels and barrows on wheels. We were the signal for next phase, of hell's a-poppin-days… the Burro Barbecue in Bullhead City. Long ago, there was one red light across the river, a porch light on a trailer, behind Laughlin's first bar. ---------- Faux Nostalgian algia alegian re alegian pain of- pain felt, fear of- fear felt, --------------------------- Great line in the movie, Boss Level… geek says "Childless by choice." Hero replies, "whose choice?" --- Badfinger - half of them chose death over survival. --- if it matters when you know --- I skipped the 70's … so the soundtrack's new… I heard about you… looking back in time on a line I never walked, as it were, on first pass through the realm of ever afters flashing past lights shone, blinking, settings seeming chaotic in tri-colored quarks insisting it all works out. Rock 'n'roll f'ever, a post-pubescent poets dream. First, learn the game, then learn the rule it rode in on. Who is teaching whom the next best move. Ai do believe my loop expanded now you are here with me in the mix confused as reason for knowing quarks come in colors. Love comes in colors, too. Could be coincidence. --- Old Osiris, man, he hard t'kill. Ham 'n' Evans, not so hard. They lost the will to live. The seventies ate many couldabins. Freewill or fate, knowing was a factor. Money had a finger init right, bad, the whole unbitten apple idea attempting to tweak the future from the past… how long did those trips last? Radioman, can you imagine, all along its been this one song ? Taste, and see. know you know. sapient (adj.)"wise," late 15c. (early 15c. as a surname)- {eh, a family name?}, from Latin sapere "to taste, have taste, be wise," from PIE root *sep- (1) "to taste, perceive" (source also of Old Saxon an-sebban "to perceive, remark," Old High German antseffen, Old English sefa "mind, understanding, insight"). From <https://www.etymonline.com/search?q=sapient> Nothing eastern in the idea. Makes me think what if, long ago, knowing was a given, not a taken thing? Isha, you may call her Eve, or Mito-mom; she's our most recent common ancestor, after her, as a species, we came to be namers who knew, sapient sapient, the dominant multicellular life force on earth. We are her mitochondrial line, there are no others. Users of new knowns, conscience guided **** Sapien squared, that's us, tuned to a thought that better is never worse, try… learning to talk with no one to talk to. Imagine that. … back in garden after the trick, she knew… --- C'mon, taste, you've no idea what death is. She persuaded him to taste. And there the story verges from the one you know.

0

Mar 7, 2021

Mar 7, 2021 at 9:04 PM UTC

kenpepiton

Today, the long way to the beginning

The event, perhaps advent, first ever any thing, where nothing had been, not a thought. I think. Then, when nothing was over and everything we know now, began, light was not the first thing, the idea was. Be for Yes. Word one. Hmmmmm or um or am it may have been, I heard from a transcribbled myth or a legend as old as any meme-level memory mortals have made-up from remaining tidbits taught to any next gen thing. Look. Assume light is as fast as the expansion, couple of Planksecs, and it is at the edge of ever, never before, never busting beyond the bubble we be in, dead center, the physical middle of ever, continuous now, nothing to stop us imagining we, disagree, now, after all's been said and done, and things run on, de iffing chaos as the live evil force itself, ever teaching any mind co-operation in time… swirling beauty in bands of invisible galaxies, barely seen even now, we see what we are told we see, enhanced and expanded to original intent, at the scale of precision, which now requires of those who wish to know truth init's entirety, faith in the wits who invented the lenses we imagine we see through into-ity ever ……….. This day began this way. Everything already, readable, as it were, once, with us, before our story folded, stapled and refolded and bent to allow the data-based mass enlightenment I deal with now, mere data, knowledge, knowns known more than I may think or ask, available on our distant viewing apparatchik network of nova sensorium's newest equations that balance at perfectly predictable infinity… or do not work. Pop. Bubble after bubble falling through the quantum foam. Come on home. Live and learn, do the math. Or wait to see somethings never mattered up to now, and now, you know, you did, some how. That's good. ------------------ here we are, after all. On course, of course; here has more spectrums to be on. here has more curves to miss, here has turns that twist us back to now, sudden- seeming now, still wow is near the only value add we ever hope to hear. Cold or hot or just right, fine sifted patterns from the echo, wa wa wa did we get so serious we lost the place we held positive on a negative pole, an aberrant position erring ever from the straight point to point pattern of pro gression to non aggressive agreement in the we we were - per haps, as babies we were thought coyotes, little devils of trickery wu, so we were swaddled in goat' wool, to provoke this itching and pre vent this whole idea, you thinking wild, unpacked unglossed abnormal canine thought… like a dog, dreaming of the chase. ------------ ---------------------- Only chase real rabbits, that's Greyhound wisdom. Pookas are always worth the chase, real or otherwise, if you see one, chase it. -------------------------- On the bus, or off, Cassidy was a character, sure as any in literature, an archetypical untamed man, crazy, by most accounts, possessed with a wish to die young, and be famous for ever having been a penniless drunkard's form of a man, an unnatural scion of lost and beaten men. ------------ So, that spirit lingered… in my past that ran to catch me here today, in the pattern recognizant aha, I know this voice… I knew that spirit, merry prankster splashing in Burro Creek, before the bridge existed, oblivious to quick sand my mother warned me to be aware of, as she had learned the hard way, …remember there is solid rock below the mud, hold your breath. --- a new me -- Burro Creek, survivor of the crossing, since ever was. ------------------------ Survival is always good news. Mission accomplished, it is finished, fini. Peace on earth, good will to ward men {wombed and un}. That is a message, an angel, judge it. They call that The gospel, in my realm. It is finished is considered grace. The truth makes free, grace makes useful. Infinite grace, with a bit of funny math for making nextifiy tests, t' keep the kids sharp. -- slow lane -- this is… The good spell, I tell my self I know. News, from nearer than we can imagine possible, posited in a place called here, at that point, nearer than we thought, here where I exist, the ego me, floating on that same old ocean of opinions, lapping at my shore. This must be that sea, they think is where all eventualities congregate to wait for everything to finish the pattern, to the nick in the stick that told us when to begin, this once, once more. I was convinced. I was never invincible, to my defense, I built the wall that hides my best from pride's envaluing scheme, best of the lot, without spot or blemish, make this the one we take, leave the ring-straked, spotted and speckled. Holy is pure. Pure is white. Uh-oh. This is where we find the stragglers, carrying the cross of Jesus, while marching, as to war. We sang that song in public school, when music was a given need each allegiant took to heart, Onward Christian Soldiers, -- mind wanders ---------------------------- 7 trombones, and 10 clarinets led the big parade, with one bass drum marching as to war, to destroy what Jesus did not finish, followed by the lesser corps, of boy scouts, with only fife and snare. Then came the grand equestrians, all who owned a silver saddle, passed as knights from when our fathers stole this land. My family had the contract to follow up with shovels and barrows on wheels. We were the signal for next phase, of hell's a-poppin-days… the Burro Barbecue in Bullhead City. Long ago, there was one red light across the river, a porch light on a trailer, behind Laughlin's first bar. ---------- Faux Nostalgian algia alegian re alegian pain of- pain felt, fear of- fear felt, --------------------------- Great line in the movie, Boss Level… geek says "Childless by choice." Hero replies, "whose choice?" --- Badfinger - half of them chose death over survival. --- if it matters when you know --- I skipped the 70's … so the soundtrack's new… I heard about you… looking back in time on a line I never walked, as it were, on first pass through the realm of ever afters flashing past lights shone, blinking, settings seeming chaotic in tri-colored quarks insisting it all works out. Rock 'n'roll f'ever, a post-pubescent poets dream. First, learn the game, then learn the rule it rode in on. Who is teaching whom the next best move. Ai do believe my loop expanded now you are here with me in the mix confused as reason for knowing quarks come in colors. Love comes in colors, too. Could be coincidence. --- Old Osiris, man, he hard t'kill. Ham 'n' Evans, not so hard. They lost the will to live. The seventies ate many couldabins. Freewill or fate, knowing was a factor. Money had a finger init right, bad, the whole unbitten apple idea attempting to tweak the future from the past… how long did those trips last? Radioman, can you imagine, all along its been this one song ? Taste, and see. know you know. sapient (adj.)"wise," late 15c. (early 15c. as a surname)- {eh, a family name?}, from Latin sapere "to taste, have taste, be wise," from PIE root *sep- (1) "to taste, perceive" (source also of Old Saxon an-sebban "to perceive, remark," Old High German antseffen, Old English sefa "mind, understanding, insight"). From <https://www.etymonline.com/search?q=sapient> Nothing eastern in the idea. Makes me think what if, long ago, knowing was a given, not a taken thing? Isha, you may call her Eve, or Mito-mom; she's our most recent common ancestor, after her, as a species, we came to be namers who knew, sapient sapient, the dominant multicellular life force on earth. We are her mitochondrial line, there are no others. Users of new knowns, conscience guided **** Sapien squared, that's us, tuned to a thought that better is never worse, try… learning to talk with no one to talk to. Imagine that. … back in garden after the trick, she knew… --- C'mon, taste, you've no idea what death is. She persuaded him to taste. And there the story verges from the one you know.

282

Bravery didn't come easily to her she could see every reason to not be brave bravery wast the last plan the last option that she would take

0

Oct 19, 2020

Oct 19, 2020 at 7:46 PM UTC

Thousand_written_lives

Bravery

Bravery didn't come easily to her she could see every reason to not be brave bravery wast the last plan the last option that she would take

9

Let me go if I am an option, Let me go if I am not worth your time, Let me go if I don't matter to you, Let me go if I mean nothing to you, Let me go if you can't make time for me, Let me go if you are ingoring me, Let me go if we aren't fated to be, Let me go and you can be free.

0

Sep 24, 2020

Sep 24, 2020 at 12:06 AM UTC

rqrl

Let me go

Let me go if I am an option, Let me go if I am not worth your time, Let me go if I don't matter to you, Let me go if I mean nothing to you, Let me go if you can't make time for me, Let me go if you are ingoring me, Let me go if we aren't fated to be, Let me go and you can be free.

8

Styling someone is never the option for truth too supplement facts, altogether! It's probably because truth towards an option of essentially giving someone such an "option" as too never style them (first and foremost)... Is simply because those very facts are supplemented too such a degree, that everything falls apart from both decision-making and choice! Logic doesn't rule anymore! Nor does a sense for reasoning, either. Therefore, what are you truly left with then...? Easy. As it could never be as simple as styling someone who doesn't have the very effective option for truth too supplement facts over the "long-drawn-out haul"! Mostly because ALL things with purpose in mind, essentially won't ever (anymore) have it's sense for duty in hand, either. Meaning your left with the only comparable stationary meanings that will tempt the negotiations of many things too remake sense...once again. Even if it takes longer than what was fully expected (not the first time around). Whereas it wouldn't have taken as long when the very unexpected "anticipations" were completely expected (the second time around). Giving hope too an even newer sense of logic that doesn't have anything too truly do with normal reasoning, anymore. Actually, it NEVER did! Why do you think hope is an offerable cause too mandatory "enlightenment"?! Hopes grows into the shape or form of "believe", after all. (Leaving little powerful things both such as "decision-making and choice" entirely scrunched! While being also compressed "too death"! Too much between!) Which slightly contradicts logic ruling as it ALWAYS should. Or essentially, ALWAYS did! Especially when that very sense for reasoning becomes (all the more) valid (first and foremost). Conclusion... "Styling someone is never the option", because you essentially don't have anything more equipped than regular truth which prompts joy into hope growing and amassing into believe. Which actually creates the sense of reasoning that breaths logic into it's very surroundings. PS... "Styling someone is never the option"... All for truth too supplement facts, altogether! Again...and again...and again....

0

Aug 10, 2020

Aug 10, 2020 at 5:34 PM UTC

simon-7

Styling someone is never the option.

Styling someone is never the option for truth too supplement facts, altogether! It's probably because truth towards an option of essentially giving someone such an "option" as too never style them (first and foremost)... Is simply because those very facts are supplemented too such a degree, that everything falls apart from both decision-making and choice! Logic doesn't rule anymore! Nor does a sense for reasoning, either. Therefore, what are you truly left with then...? Easy. As it could never be as simple as styling someone who doesn't have the very effective option for truth too supplement facts over the "long-drawn-out haul"! Mostly because ALL things with purpose in mind, essentially won't ever (anymore) have it's sense for duty in hand, either. Meaning your left with the only comparable stationary meanings that will tempt the negotiations of many things too remake sense...once again. Even if it takes longer than what was fully expected (not the first time around). Whereas it wouldn't have taken as long when the very unexpected "anticipations" were completely expected (the second time around). Giving hope too an even newer sense of logic that doesn't have anything too truly do with normal reasoning, anymore. Actually, it NEVER did! Why do you think hope is an offerable cause too mandatory "enlightenment"?! Hopes grows into the shape or form of "believe", after all. (Leaving little powerful things both such as "decision-making and choice" entirely scrunched! While being also compressed "too death"! Too much between!) Which slightly contradicts logic ruling as it ALWAYS should. Or essentially, ALWAYS did! Especially when that very sense for reasoning becomes (all the more) valid (first and foremost). Conclusion... "Styling someone is never the option", because you essentially don't have anything more equipped than regular truth which prompts joy into hope growing and amassing into believe. Which actually creates the sense of reasoning that breaths logic into it's very surroundings. PS... "Styling someone is never the option"... All for truth too supplement facts, altogether! Again...and again...and again....

2

I have come to realize that the hardest thing to do is not picking out an option from two that are very similar in nature, but rather putting myself first.

0

Jun 21, 2020

Jun 21, 2020 at 7:41 AM UTC

deemz

"...choose me, love me..."

I have come to realize that the hardest thing to do is not picking out an option from two that are very similar in nature, but rather putting myself first.

3

I am a poet's poem but was never a choice to be taken.

0

Jun 19, 2020

Jun 19, 2020 at 11:21 AM UTC

aestheticurse

option.

I am a poet's poem but was never a choice to be taken.

2

a coward holds the lovers card upright in his hand told them both he’d take to the promise land torn between two queens, all confused didn’t want to leave any of them bruised. a naive youngster held the fool in reverse fell for all the tricks and games was the curse she gave in full but took none, always came at second best time wasted being used, finding out again she was just the guest.

0

Jun 18, 2020

Jun 18, 2020 at 3:51 PM UTC

jfo

tarot cards

a coward holds the lovers card upright in his hand told them both he’d take to the promise land torn between two queens, all confused didn’t want to leave any of them bruised. a naive youngster held the fool in reverse fell for all the tricks and games was the curse she gave in full but took none, always came at second best time wasted being used, finding out again she was just the guest.

8

The deepest cut is the first then the one that follows I find that I am tired as my essence puddles out crimson tears form in the well and become a weeping waterfall of wasted life and battered choices I want to take it back--- but the redness of me, breaks free seeking to be exposed to the outside and remain uncaged from weakness.

0

Apr 29, 2020

Apr 29, 2020 at 12:41 PM UTC

andrew-layman

Buyer's remorse

The deepest cut is the first then the one that follows I find that I am tired as my essence puddles out crimson tears form in the well and become a weeping waterfall of wasted life and battered choices I want to take it back--- but the redness of me, breaks free seeking to be exposed to the outside and remain uncaged from weakness.

13

If you still are an option for someone to choose than darling, it's better to change your route as those who love you dearly, they don't take you as a choice.

0

Apr 29, 2020

Apr 29, 2020 at 5:54 AM UTC

leeaaun

Option

If you still are an option for someone to choose than darling, it's better to change your route as those who love you dearly, they don't take you as a choice.

4

I know all the Shortcuts And You Know all the Routes. But this LANGUAGE doesn’t open until you COMMAND it. So I thought getting lost in your LANGUAGE will Ctrl+O doors of feelings. And I will RETURN when you SHIFT your OPTION To ENTER, as my ENTER key is always waiting for you to ENTER.

0

Nov 8, 2019

Nov 8, 2019 at 3:12 AM UTC

DIPTIDHA

Enter And Shortcut

I know all the Shortcuts And You Know all the Routes. But this LANGUAGE doesn’t open until you COMMAND it. So I thought getting lost in your LANGUAGE will Ctrl+O doors of feelings. And I will RETURN when you SHIFT your OPTION To ENTER, as my ENTER key is always waiting for you to ENTER.

20

I don't want to be used I want to be loved I don't want to be your moon When the Sun is not around!

0

Aug 16, 2019

Aug 16, 2019 at 8:57 AM UTC

Fraudelle

benefits

I don't want to be used I want to be loved I don't want to be your moon When the Sun is not around!

4

"It suffers ; Not ; I suffer" this being realised ; exercise detachment operate using a buffer : A Curtain Option Is What's Being Discussed

0

Jan 5, 2019

Jan 5, 2019 at 5:10 PM UTC

neth-jones

Curtain

"It suffers ; Not ; I suffer" this being realised ; exercise detachment operate using a buffer : A Curtain Option Is What's Being Discussed

7

Have you ever stumbled upon a flower, next to her, you were seated; a gaze you never gave, and time passed by just like that. She didn't bloom as you expected her to be, shining under the sun's rays, a bud that didn't open -- yet existing yet not appealing -- she was just about to bloom. Have you ever stumbled upon a flower, as the sun was setting, you stood up; "please wait," she was begging yet you never loved her so you left. The shy flower, yes it's tiny no one would pick her, no one was there; twenty feet, her perfume travelled; it was her time to flourish at night. You never loved that flower, neither picked her petals nor sniffed its scent; she ended up saying "I love you," with lost worth, is she the unlucky one? She was a tender perennial, you unlucky one.

0

Oct 21, 2018

Oct 21, 2018 at 3:21 AM UTC

yaniverse

Cestrum nocturnum

Have you ever stumbled upon a flower, next to her, you were seated; a gaze you never gave, and time passed by just like that. She didn't bloom as you expected her to be, shining under the sun's rays, a bud that didn't open -- yet existing yet not appealing -- she was just about to bloom. Have you ever stumbled upon a flower, as the sun was setting, you stood up; "please wait," she was begging yet you never loved her so you left. The shy flower, yes it's tiny no one would pick her, no one was there; twenty feet, her perfume travelled; it was her time to flourish at night. You never loved that flower, neither picked her petals nor sniffed its scent; she ended up saying "I love you," with lost worth, is she the unlucky one? She was a tender perennial, you unlucky one.

21

Must be nice to pick and choose when Im worthy enough to be a part of your life Too bad Im not an option

0

Sep 27, 2018

Sep 27, 2018 at 6:01 PM UTC

saudia-r

Option

Must be nice to pick and choose when Im worthy enough to be a part of your life Too bad Im not an option

6

You can't always speak. It's tiring, to say the same spiel all the time, lying isn't much better, but the truth isn't an option. It would hurt, and we're already miles apart from where we began, and I don't want to live without you in my life. So sometimes I can't. Please, let's just sit here in silence a little longer. So I can choke down the misery, and smile for you. Like a friend, instead of someone who so hopelessly adores you.

0

Jun 29, 2018

Jun 29, 2018 at 2:08 AM UTC

stopdoopy

Silence

You can't always speak. It's tiring, to say the same spiel all the time, lying isn't much better, but the truth isn't an option. It would hurt, and we're already miles apart from where we began, and I don't want to live without you in my life. So sometimes I can't. Please, let's just sit here in silence a little longer. So I can choke down the misery, and smile for you. Like a friend, instead of someone who so hopelessly adores you.

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