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lovely Jan 2015
You treated me almost as though I was a book. You saw me, your eyes gleaming with curiosity and interest. You claimed me as yours, and opened me up. You memorized everything about me, just like you would your favorite book, scanning and remembeing the look of the outside, the artwork and the specific details. Then you read every part of me, the chapters of my life and every story in-between. The good, and the not so good. You analyzed everything, even reading between the lines. You fell in love with me the way you do your favorite book. But soon you got to the end, filled with disappointment that it was over. You'd hoped for a happy ending, just like your favorite book. But that's not what you got. Instead, you got an emotional, heart wrenching conclusion. But somehow, I was still your favorite.
And although you are moving on to your next book, you have engraved your name into the last page of your favorite book, claiming it to be yours forever.
And even though you may never touch that book, or me, ever again, we will always be yours. And your name will remain with us for eternity.
-L.R.G.
Illya Oz Jan 2017
Falling

Falling forever downwards
Into a hole that just grows
Deeper and deeper
And darker and darker

Digging

Digging my hole deeper
With every mistake I make
Every time I mess up
Every time I hurt someone

Crying

Crying tears fall from my eyes
The shame and embarrassment
Saying sorry is not enough
For me to be forgiven

Remembeing

Remembering every mistake I made
No matter how small they are
Or how bad my memories is
They will never stop replaying in my mind

Begging

Begging for forgiveness
For things they probably don't remember
And that probably don't care about
But they need to know that I do

Hoping

Hoping that one day they will forgive me
And that I will forgive myself
For the things that create my hole
And then mabey I will stop...

Falling
I always seem to get hung up on every little thing I do wrong or was yelled at about. I will spent hours lying awake in bed remembering and feeling bad about something I did two years ago.

— The End —