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Belle Victoria May 2015
I loved you because you were broken
my soul could look at yours and see home

every minute we spend together was like drowing in the ocean
I would sink deeper and deeper and eventually I would choke
but the darkness of the water never botherd me, I liked it
maybe because you were always there with me

in the morning I would look up and see the sunlight
coming through my window, the lights would touch my face
and every single morning when I would open my eyes
the first thing I always think of is you and how much I love you

I wish I could have you near me, like everyday
but we both know that never was a great idea
after a while we would remember how much we are a like
and I would hate you for being that way, you would hate me
maybe that is why you are my soulmate, why I love you

Im looking for parts of myself in the people I love
it gives me comfort knowing there are kids out there who are like me
a little bit mad, a little bit broken, but with golden hearts and voices

I always loved the idea of us being in love forever.
a lovestory about two broken teenagers that would never work out.
Kelly Anne Jan 2018
i cant be bothred to use my grammer
or fix my typos
im just tired
im always just
tired
Autumn Feb 2013
you expect me to care what you do,what you say, what you think,
why?
because you are so use to being judged, because you are so use to being told that that's wrong, not right for you to say, for you to think that,
you expect me to me botherd by your threats,
why?
because you are so use to being scared yourself, because you are so use to not being you out of simple cowardicity, because you are so use to feeding off thoose of the weak you expect us to back down,
you  expect me to scream back in your face,
why?
because so many do that regularly, because you want me to sinnk to your level, because you simply want someone to relate to, someone to be in the same boat as you,
you expect me to rrun away,
why?
because you think you don't deserve what every human does, because you think that if you get help, that if i wanted to help, that you would let me down, because that is what you have been trained to do your entire life, let people down, because you have said no so many times wishing someone would say i know you want to say yes, because you yourself have ran away,
you expect me to stop, and look, and ask what's wrong?
why?
because you think you deserve help, because you think you are lower than i, because you think that i should simply pity you because you are the way you are, because you are in the circumstances you think you are in, because you assume i am a good person,
you expect me to do the right thing,to not betray you,
why?
because you have been cradeld, because you are so naieve, because you have been taught that people in my position ofpower are all good, are to be trusted, are to be romodels to look up to, because you simply want to be right,
you expect me to be loyal, to not lie, to want to be responsible,
why?
because that is what you have been taught is morally correct, because that is what you have been taught is what you must be to go far in life,
you think you are ugly, disgusting,
why?
because you have been told that you are ugly, because you have beentold that people who say you are oretty are lying, because you have been trained, forced, to believe that this is what' s beautiful, that this is whats ugly,
you expect people to care, people to be "good", people to betray you, you expect people to think your ugly, you expect people to say no, to say yes, you expect people to want to strive for better, you expect to be or not to be disapointed,
why?
because your brain was set that opne thing is ight one thing is worng, that you must reach standards to be "good" or to be "bad, because that is wat you have only ever known, because human's are human's. and we are our future death, and we are what will **** this earth, and we are what kills each other, and we are what makes each other happy, and whether we think we are good or bad, whether we need this or thtt it is ecause of society's standards, because of society's rules inwhich "must be obeyed" but what if the true fun part of life is breaking thoose rules, crushing thoose standards, an recreating something that isn't what we have known always.
Why do you allways sing?
I asked half asleep and watching as he shined polished or cleaned
some mechanical car part I did not reconize
or really care about,
I mostley focosed on the tone of  his voeis as he slerd the words to
turn the page
he looked up at me with only his blue eye
why do I sing? Why, does it bother you?
I did know what to say becuz I did not know if it botherd me
so I just pushed it off with a fake smile
so what was with you yesterday?
I rolled my eyes, I did not want to talk about this or anything...
But he did not stop
huh? Did I do something wrong?
I laught and for a minute it felth like it might be a natural feeling
but he did not do anything wrong he can't if he tryd
and now I know his singing does not bother me
it brings me to life....
Allmost all of my poems are for him...
What about the victims in violent crimes
gone forever as life is taken away.
Murdered never to be with the families
their suffering rarely remembered.
What of the partners and children's grief
who at this awful time need belief.

If their perpetrator does get caught
what punishment do they receive.
No sentence can compensate the loss
yet too often it seems far too short.
A life sentence for the families to bear
the guilty often a few years is this fair?

How many heart wrenching stories
of cold blooded assualts or ******.
Merciless violence and shocking brutality
attacks on unsuspecting people.
Trying to help or quietly walking out
alone and in terror nobody about.

I cannot imaging how much they suffer
what justice can repay the horror.
Thugs who simply do not give a ****
not botherd at the misery caused.
Thinking it is fun a laugh often drunk
maybe on drugs or smoking skunk.

No excuse or lame reason that is given
can give those left behind any comfort.
watching them go free with no remorse
able to inflict more cruel misery.
Loved ones only have memories to keep
empty nights and lonely sleep.

Life never forget how pressures and fragile
think of those suffering for a while.

    The Foureyed Poet.
Victims in crime how often do we think of them?
Lisa Pike Aug 2016
Liar. Liar. Liar. Liar.
Stupid. Stupid .Stupid
Danger
Red
Sabotage
Not outwardly botherd.
Internally screaming
Burrowing, squirming.
Contagious. infected vile
Why do you like me?
This was written way before I was diagnosed with Bi-polar.

— The End —