Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
tiyaja cianni Apr 2019
Winter.
That one season
            that keeps you warm inside,
        but slightly numb and dead on the outside.
Winter.
          I figured out that the snow wasn’t just everything,
           but it was only a fraction of what makes us cold.
Winter.
                 It changes your feelings, and ****** you off
                      until you’re late for school
                          because you were up all night,
                                                    sleepi­ng in class,
                                                         passing out in gym,
                                                     coming home half-awake,
                             and laying in bed with your eyes in a shade of red
                      
                           because you know that you’re tired.

You’re tired of Winter,
                 and begging for spring.
Spring.
       She finally came around
                   and    danced   like   the   melody    of    moonlight  
             sonata.
                    She was slower than the rest of the seasons.


I was still dead.

Spring.

The feeling of seeing others happy makes me shiver, I hate it. I hate being the only one with
                                      nothing there
tiyaja cianni Apr 2019
Sometimes you’re not going to get what you want.
That should be okay, but you refuse to let it be.
Being argumentative shouldn’t be anything to flaunt.
Crying isn’t anything when it comes to me.
What hurts the most is that you’re not sorry.
tiyaja cianni Mar 2019
Every writer has a story to tell

My story is about acceptance

Everybody wants to be loved in some way, shape, or form.
Either way, seeking love is way more complicated than receiving it.
The feeling that little to nobody is there is a life draining experience.

I had a dream that I apologized to everyone for everything I've ever done.
Today, I made it happen in real life.
A common thing among the two is that they both ended horribly.
No matter how much you apologize,
no matter how bad you feel,
no matter the weather- it can be sunshine or storms-
no one owes you anything and you should reciprocate it.

This is your acceptance letter.
If you are not loved by them, you are loved by me.
To everyone who has ever felt the way I have for the past 6 years, I sympathize. I would want things like world peace and love, but that doesn't always work out, does it?
tiyaja cianni Nov 2018
Every single day, you look into that ******* mirror.
Are you happy?
Do you see what you want to see
or is there a stranger glaring back at you?
Well, no. There isn't.
When you look into the mirror, you shouldn't see anything except for what you created.
That's all and that's it.
You shouldn't think so low of an amazing thing that you have made on your own.
You did this, so own up to it.
But still, you look in that mirror the next day
and you ask yourself,
"who are you?"
i love you <3
tiyaja cianni Mar 2018
i will always put you first
because no matter how bad it gets,
it could always get worse.

i want to see you happy
and that's the way you want to see me
but i'm not at my best
which decreases your interest

i'm sorry that i'm sad
but can you find it in your heart to remember
that you're all that i have
please don't leave like last november.
i guess i'm upset. i tried to shake it off, but i'm upset.
tiyaja cianni Feb 2018
Oxygen.
I’m slowly running out of it.
My heart beats so fast that my body can’t actually keep up,
so my lungs panic.
My mind shuts down-

and here I am. Asleep.

Thinking about what the world would be like without oxygen.
I feel like I’m dead, but I’m not.
I’m still.
I am tired.
I am slowly wilting away because I let you take my breath.
If a single word can bring me to this state, then come closer.

A touch will **** me, but it is worth the risk.

Satisfaction is all that I crave, so if I die today or tomorrow because of a mislead, then it shall have to stay that way.

I will die a perfect death.

The lack of air and the lack of anything in my lungs will have to just let me wilt away.

Oxygen.
I think I need it as much as I need you, but why balance two things that cannot compare to each other? Why put together something that will equally repel? You will fight because I need you both, but why? Why does someone compare to something that has been given to me since birth?Why does someone who has their own supply fail to share it with someone who needs it?

Oxygen.

A wildcard. Puts me together like the petals being ripped from a flower in reverse. But you are the actual motion, yanking every little bit of anything that I could ever have left, but why?

Ask yourself.

Your oxygen is different than mine because it can only exist if you’re taking it from helpless girls that have had so much air that they might as well be falling from the sky, but now they are just done. They are done. Because you took their oxygen.
Corpses. In a coffin. Stuck without any oxygen. Dead. because you took it. You took my air. I’m a useless body of decayed skin because you took it all from me. You took my oxygen.

— The End —