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Literature Text
I wish that only one pair of lips would meet my own,
I wish they would belong to the one that will always love me.
But, alas, we all fall for the harshness of counterfeit affection.
Lies, built on broken oaths. That's what I once was.
But someday, I know that we will cross paths,
And the connection will blossom into a symphony of faith and trust.
But I have yet to find you.
I will endure heartbreak. That much is assured. It always is.
No one can really escape the pain and suffering of a cheat, or a lost feeling of love.
And recovery can take an eternity.
I know I will endure this pain and sorrow.
But I'll still be waiting for you, in the end.
My heart, broken and bleeding,
Held out in my hands, waiting for you to steal it.
You will come,
And you will repair me, make me whole again.
That much is promised.
I wish they would belong to the one that will always love me.
But, alas, we all fall for the harshness of counterfeit affection.
Lies, built on broken oaths. That's what I once was.
But someday, I know that we will cross paths,
And the connection will blossom into a symphony of faith and trust.
But I have yet to find you.
I will endure heartbreak. That much is assured. It always is.
No one can really escape the pain and suffering of a cheat, or a lost feeling of love.
And recovery can take an eternity.
I know I will endure this pain and sorrow.
But I'll still be waiting for you, in the end.
My heart, broken and bleeding,
Held out in my hands, waiting for you to steal it.
You will come,
And you will repair me, make me whole again.
That much is promised.
Literature
Part One
Should I really be thinking about this right now? God I really just want to upset myself, don't I?
Thinking about my self worth during history class isn't the best for my performance. Granted, I've already finished all of my assignments, two days ahead of the class in fact, however the teacher already hates me. If I space out too much he will yell at me.
Watching those two together, really annoys me. Usually I have my emotions under control, I never get angry or sad. It's actually pretty disturbing. I never cry. I want to cry. I can't.
I'm just telling myself things I don't want to hear...or is it true. Is that really what he's thinking? Do
Literature
Poetry: fragility
i thought i fought well;
but the blood between fingers
lingers - languid.
fluid - sick sick sick
to the pit of my belly and i was caught in
limbo. eyes lidded. teeth
candied and rotting. oh, the ridicule.
you saw it in me.
the root - lit in heaven’s light
and a moral cause for concern.
an invite for the dead.
their muffled wails caught in coffined
carousels.
i buried my hands in
top soil,
in sacrilege.
something
reached back.
Literature
Detriment and denial
When you're alone,
you're forced to confront yourself.
All the things you push aside
in the presence of others
resurfaces.
Mistakes
Mistreatment
Manipulation
Hatred
Self-loathing
Worthlessness
Abuse
Depression
...The list is endless.
Oh but go on, keep lying.
"It's ok, I like being alone."
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A weird little free-word love poem I wrote in my spare time.
© 2012 - 2024 MontanaGirl8266
Comments33
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CJ have you ever considered writing just small memoirs and stories like writingsforwinter.tumblr.com/ has?
Putting peices of emotions like this altogether would be easy for people to relate to
As everyone can find poems like this to connect with their own lives
Putting peices of emotions like this altogether would be easy for people to relate to
As everyone can find poems like this to connect with their own lives