#thrownaway
Gave up
That's enough
Do you really want me
I thought you just left me
So rude
I went through
I've been trying to reach you
But you locked the door before
Seems the love we shared was not enough
I missed all the joy in us we're broke
Don't you really want the fun back up
But now
I dont really need you back
The breeze tells me not to
We fell in love when I had something
They're not with me now
All I believe is that
I could restart my life single
Not needing no one's help
I will gain the power to live alone.
Sep 27, 2016
Sep 27, 2016 at 5:46 AM UTC
There's something about a cookie cutter that many people like. How perfect it is, how it's handy and controlling, how it's the regular norm for a normal family.
So, they believe, "maybe my kid can be the same". Maybe they can transfer their kids perfectly in life like a cookie cutter can with dough.
But in all reality, not everyone fits that cookie cutter mold. So, they are forced, being shoved into the cutter and broken in the process, leaving them perfect but bruised.
Then once that dough is baked and life is towards its end, they are thrown away as they aren't perfect like all the rest. They are cracked and crumbled. Though, mom still continues, shoving her little dough boy or girl into the cookie cutter, trying to get a new one perfect since she threw away the last... But alas..this one is different too.
In an imaginary world, the mother would have thrown away the cookie cutter and loved the dough the way he or she was.. But instead this is reality, where being cookie cutter perfect is the only option.
Jan 25, 2016
Jan 25, 2016 at 10:41 PM UTC
When we fall in love we believe that the other person is the one who you were meant to be with; your soulmate, your everything
And you believe that this person is what you have been looking for all this time and that it won't ever work with somone else...
All these beautiful hopes become nightmares when we realize that everything turns out the opposite of what you most wished for.
Jan 6, 2016
Jan 6, 2016 at 12:22 AM UTC
“Amanda,” she said, in a bold assertion
“We really are the same
Person.” Limp in the dew and
Wise like a sage, no wound cut
No blood shed, yet,
There was something this
Bandage shut,
Something yawning, gaping
But I don’t know what…
How sad! She’s crying, that Amanda,
Shrugging ‘gainst the colic rain
And almost lost in the copes-y veranda,
Weeping softly on
Those concrete flats, wearing “Red Tom’s
And” both “Dating Matts” while
I saw her fear in that moment, appalling, stalling
With soroitous heart, “and fear of falling!”
Binding them tightly: “That’s US haha!”
How many laughs does a limp spirit draw?
—(a disparaged few or none at all…)
Still, she writes, “I am so glad” (a huff annoyed
From Amanda, distant and sad, that I
Can’t tell why “you” ever “joined.”)
But this is not my place, a passerby,
To pick up trash, inane and lonely,
To cast my judgments and inquire—why?
To heal the unbroken with words unspoken
But scratched on refuse, she may
“[heart] you” but refuse you, too
The spirit of [heart] in Amanda awoken
—(But she refused it, too!)
And then be a token
Some stranger takes home.
Apr 8, 2014
Apr 8, 2014 at 7:52 AM UTC