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Daan Feb 2014
The words come out wrong,
wishing seconds could be hours
still not enough
you must think I'm weird

I want to stop myself from getting hurt
all the time
all day
but I can't

Because you're so pretty, pretty unreachable
There's always another guy
I want to be that guy and not
Cause everyone hates that guy.

But you don't
You love him
why don't you love me?

It's like you don't even try
It has always been my
intended action
failed
nailed on the spot

useless piece of uselesness
being useless and stuff
I have had enough
I want to leave daytime.
Step out, night into we go
studying, front row, below
average, passed, gone, missing
forever.

Why can't I accept it's gone.
Maybe it isn't?
that's what I'm talking about.
She must think I'm weird.

people don't like weird people
they only like people who turn out to be weird.
Daytime offers dresscodes
dresscodes nighttime loathes.

I judge but I hate being judged
I hate but I hate being hated.
I love but I don't see how one could love me.
If she doesn't, why care for anyone else
she doesn't
what matters doesn't
doesn't that hurt?


Why
day
why
may
I not
be loved
beloved
day, why?

Though it is not 'ed, night brings light
it might not be too bright
but it's better than nothing.
I wish I was nothing.
I wouldn't have to worry
I worry a lot

I'm loved by those who I don't like
and love the ones that don't like me
Who is wrong here?
CAN SOMEONE PLEASE TEACH ME HOW TO NOT THINK ABOUT SOMEone eVERY SINGLE SECOND OF the day.

time, she is unreachable
and way too attractive,
loved in general
which shows you just enough to be of interest
to keep me going

yet not enough to let the night keep glowing.


If daytime is so bad, why not sta
Holly tuckey Nov 2011
Always, and after things have passed
do I think of you, and see where I went wrong.
then the revelvaltions come so fast
of what I should have done all along.
But somehow in the middle of it all
I forget to call on you
and ask that you'll not let me fall
and that you'll see me through.
Instead I let myself go on and break
the promises I made,
From my uselesness I cannot wake,
all reason seems to fade.
Then always, and after things have passed
do I turn and think of you
and know that you'll forgive me to the last.
How I wish to be worthy of you!

— The End —