Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Dec 2010 · 655
Versa Vice
The one I love
The one I hate
I can spend
Equall amounts of time
Thinking of both
It requires
The same amount of energies
Just opposite
Or maybe the same
Both passionate
One positive
One negative
If you can say love is good
Or that hate is bad
Really
You can't
Both may reap
The same results
They can tear you apart
And pull you together again
It is as water and fire
Both may destroy
And bothe may mend
Warm a freezing child
Burn a weeping mother
Quench a deadly thirst
Drown a foolish man
My words may not tell
My intended tale
But you will take what you will
For I cannot controll your feelings
Any,ore than I controll
My versa vice
One and the same
Both
Hated and loved
Burning and drowning me
Warmings and quenching my thirst
Saving and killing
And versa vice
Jul 2010 · 842
When?
When?
When did this happen?
You seem perfect,
Inside,
Outside.
But something is wrong.
Not with you.
With me.
I'm not enough,
For you.
You deserve better.
Better than me.
When?
When was it ok for
The Beauty to love the Beast?
Who said it's ok?
Oppisites should attract?
Why?
It makes no sense.
When?
When did logic have rules?
We can;t be creative,
But we can be insane,
Dull,
Alone,
Boring,
Beautiful,
Beastly,
Wrong,
Wretched,­
Horrid,
Angry,
Deppresed,
Sick,
Vitmized.
When?
When was this ok?
Now.
Forever.
haven't written in a while hope you like it :)
May 2010 · 1.1k
Skin Dreams
Your warm hands caressing my skin,
Your cool breath on my lips,
Our sweat soaked bodies explore each other,
We are connected in so many ways,

Love,
Ideals,
Personalities,
Skin...

I awaken and find a blade by my bed,
I stare at it longingly.
Wishing I had the courage to pick it up again,
Feel it draw the familiar scarlet line,
Bright against my skn,
My skin...
More sensual than anything I've ever felt.
Outside of my dreams of course.

In my dreams I've felt so much more.
Your body and mine.
Together.
Warm,
Hot,
Hotter than flames,
Licking at bare skin.
Beautiful.

The tastes.
The smells.
The sounds.
The way you feel.

I'm just a lonely girl,
Waiting,
Looking,
For love.
Safety,
Someone who actually cares.

I wish for a boy.
Who wont leave me.
Or use me.
Or throw me away.

I want someone who can love me.
For who I really am.
Not who I should be.

I need him.
The one I love.
Not who they think I should love.
Who I should be with.
According to so-called "friends".
The ones who share the glory when I win.
But kick me when I'm down.

Where do I belong?

In my dreams...
May 2010 · 463
No
No
When I sleep,
We are kissing,
Holding each other close,
Sharing a beautiful moment.
I do love you,
And always will.

I wake up and scream.
The thought of being with you disgusts me.
The only problem is,
I really do like you.
I'm confused.
I don't understand.
I stare at my blade,
Trying to decide.

Are you worth it?

Should we be together?

Could I ever love you the way you love me?

The answer is...

No.
This one is pretty short I hope you like it.....
May 2010 · 567
Friends
Friends.
That's what we were.
Now?
Enemies?
I don't know.
Apperently.
I'm just a
Blabbermouth,
*****,
*****,
Loser.
But you?
I try to be nice.
Not point out your faults.
But in truth.
You are worse.
You tell lies.
You spread secrets.
You give yourself away.
To who?
Friends?
No.
Whoever wants you.
And some who don't.
I'm smart.
I try.
But you?
I don't know.
Are you smart?
Do you try?
No.
You don't try.
You wonder why.
You don't understand.
You don't do well.
Bad grades.
Few friends.
The ones you have.
They aren't good people.
Your.
Friends.
They hate the world.
Hate you.
Me.
Everyone.
I can't stand it.
Can't stand you.
What are we?
Friends?
No.
Very sorry if the person who this is about reads and enjoys this poem.... all I have to say is, why?
May 2010 · 883
The Bigger Person
The bigger person.
That's what is expected.
Don't be childish.
Show some disipline.
Stop whining.
You're to old to be a child.
When was i young enough?
When?
I don't remember.
Just the comand,
Be the bigger person.
Don't cry.
Don't be angry.
Don't whine.
Don't feel.
Be a rock.
Let them hit you.
Don't  retaliate.
I raised you better.
No.
You didn't.
You weren't there.
She took the job.
She tried.
But i was a rock.
Like you want now.
When did you turn back into a child?
Back?
BACK?
I was never a child.
Never.
Not once.
You ruined that experience.
I try.
I try to do what you wish.
But I need memories.
Sad.
Angry.
Happy.
But no.
I'm not allowed to feel.
That's what your words say.
Don't feel Tori.
You don't need feelings.
They make worthless consequences.
Like you.
You break my heart.
When I need to cry.
Scream.
Celebrate.
Now.
All I have are words.
On a page noone will read.
If they do.
They wont care.
Wont know the truth.
I do.
Always will.
Be the bigger person.
Ya, I know long again.....
May 2010 · 423
Love
Love.
Why is it positive?
It hurts so much.
It should be classified with,

Pain,
Suffering,
Loss,
Sadness.
For this is what it it reaps.
But it's not.

It is classified with,
Joy.
Happiness.
Laughter.
Beauty.
Love.
It is all of the above
And then some.

So,
Where should it really go?
I don't know.
It's an odd feeling.
It doesn't really fit,
Anywhere.
But I've felt it.
Before.

I understand.
But at the same time,
I don't.

Confusing.
That is what,
Love,
Most is.
This one is shorter than I'm used to, I hope I got the point across.
May 2010 · 698
Yes
Yes
Yes.
Is that your answer?
It is mine.
Too bad you don't care.

The question?
You never listen.
All you want is the answer.
Not my question.

Do you care?
No.
Me?
Yes.

I do care.
I want to know.
I need to know.
You?

No.
You couldn't care less.
Yes.
That's the truth.
Who cares about the truth?
Me.
I care.
Yes.

Me.
Finaly.
I do want answers.
But I want questions too.
Yes.

Questions open the mind.
The heart.
The soul.
The person inside.

They all shine through.
Questions.
Mine.
Yours.
You want answers.
I want questions.

Real questions.
Insightful ones.
Pure ones.
True.
Innocent.
Yours?

Yes.
I want yours.
Your real ones.
Not the fake.
The show.
What others hear.

I hear the real question.
The underlying meanings.
Yes.
I listen.
I do.

Most don't.
They only hear
What they want.
Not what's really there.
What really matters.

Not the show.
What's backstage.
Behind the scenes.
The real magic.
Yes.
It is there.
I've found it.
Again I apologize for the length.
I have issuse with keeping things short.....
May 2010 · 581
Why
Why
Why
What did I do?
I love you.
You love them.
She loves you.
At least....

She says she does.
You two seem perfect.
A cady coated happy ending.
Thats what it seems.
What about me?
Where's my love?

Him?
He loves me?
Do I love him?
I don't think so.
He's not easy to love.
Not many good qualities.
No special abilities.
Why should I get him?
He also loves another.

Why are we together?
Should I end it?
Why?
Can't I choose?
Don't I deserve happiness?
Don't I?

Why not?
Did I do something?
Are you more deserving?
Do you even love her?
I know you love another.

I know.
She doesn't.
I do.
What should I do?
Should I tell her?
Why does the thought,
Break my heart?

Why do you break my
lonely heart?
Am I broken?
Can I be fixed?
What's wrong?
Why?

Why does she chase you?
We both know we can't have you.
Why try?
Because we feel.
More than ever before.
At least that's how it is for me.

For her.
I think it's an obsession.
A race.
Who gets him?
Her.
That's what she thinks.
That's what she says.
She mocks me.
She hates me.
She loves me?

As a friend, she says.
But really?
Is that true?
No.
She hates me.
More than I hate myself
for loving him
more than I should.
Why?

That's my question.
Why?
Because everyone understands.
Not me.
I ask why.
Because I wish to know.
To be the one who
truly knows
who understands it all.

Knows.
Why?
How?
When?
Where?
Here.
That's where.
How?
I do not know yet.
When?
Now!
Always!
Forever I will ask
my questions.
Will haunt you.
Forever.
Why?

Because I wish them to.
Because I say so.
Me.
My decision.
Mine.
No one else's.
No one.
Just me.
Why?

I need them to.
So I will be remembered.
Not as a nothing.
A normal girl.
But that's not me.
I am the girl with questions.
Always questioning.
Always.
Forever.
Very long sorry I was journaling through poetry.

— The End —