Do you know I still think about you from time to time?
While our lives race bye and bye.

Why am so hung up on you?
After all the stuff you put me through.

Did you know where you left me?
On the porch, dark and empty.

How did you make me feel so great?
When my heart was full of hate.

Why did it feel like to get your love,
I had to stand in line and push and shove?

How could I be so naive?
Now I just sit here and I grieve.

I'm quite taken with you.
You're the apple of my eye.
Like a chocolate fudge sundae on a Friday night,
You're as sweet as pumpkin pie,
But my teeth are prone to cavities.
I dare not take a bite.

they asked
“do you miss him”
and I thought no
i don’t miss him

but i miss the
feel of his skin
on mine and his
hands tracing

each and every inch
of me, burning the
memory of him
into my mind

and the way his
eyes would light up
whenever he saw me
and the way

he’d kiss me to take
away all the pain inside
so when people do
ask me

“do you miss him”
i think about it
and in the end
i know i’ll never

stop  

             missing

                              him.

S.W

i never have liked uppercase i's
i know it's absolutely stupid
but they always make me feel more important than others
like i'm always saying I, I, I.

see even that was weird
way too many eyes
so i spend half my days, proofreading my lines
to make sure that i'm exactly the same size
as everyone else

when i first met you it absolutely blew me away
to find someone else who lowers their eyes
i'm serious, it's amazing to find someone who wastes as much time as yourself
hitting backspace, and
cursing auto-correct for not allowing this behavior

but after a while i noticed you stopped with the i's
maybe it was around the time **** got weird
maybe it was a fad; or i have some absurd superstition
but it's cool
You always were the bigger person, anyway.

Love is knowing each other,
Love is going though good and bad times together,
Love is when you mean everything,
Love is when there is no cheating,
Love is when I love you the most,
Love is when we're really close,
Love is all about trust,
Love is when you're ready to adjust,
Love is not letting your feelings fade away,
Love is when he makes you smile everyday,
Love is staying together forever,
Love is....................whatever.
Love is you and me,
Love is when we always agree,
Love is Just You,
I hope you love me too.

i have visions of you sleeping well
in a dim-lit room, half-furnished house
these visions once told me you were alone, and cold
and this house... it wasn't a home

i had visions of you dreaming of me
longing for the few days, in which you return to me
sleeping on a mattress is never of ease
but not so bad when you have loving to look forward to

now here in my sleepless cavern those visions have changed
i still see you dreaming in sweet peace
but with another's arms wrapped around you
and this house is more furnished than i had thought

i no longer have visions of you coming home
with a smile on your face, and sweet treats in your hands
heart shaped budds and the sweetest finger hash
are no longer gifts, but regular occurrences

not since you told me, the way you think of me has changed
it's no longer good thoughts about our psychedelic whirlwind of a journey
but of the times we went awry

i'll never know what happened for those 3 days after we spent the night
i hope your phone died and wish that was the whole story
but these visions of you sleeping in a more-furnished house

make me think that house is now more of a home.

it takes a real proud man to make a girl cry hard. most things a girl can cry off in ten minutes. Tough things. Like giving birth to big *** babies with their big *** heads and ****. But that's not what I'm talking about. I'm talking about the deepest cries. Ones that come from the most hurt-felt part of a woman's soul. Ones that make your eyes close and your stomach sick. Ones that make your whole body freeze, and all you can think is, "i am responsible for this unbearable pain, on such a gentle woman's soul."

i am a master of this art. i have learned the call of the lone woman; almost a swan song, of a dying gentle soul begging to be heard. Begging, for the one who can save her to act before she drowns; to do anything but stand there and stare. Anything but let her die this lonesome death just out of reach of his arms.

i have a recipe for hurt. tested and tried thoroughly over the years, i can now say it is perfected. i can hurt beautiful souls and shatter their wonderful dreams, then so simply turn it around to make it sound like it was their fault. one may say this is a fine delicacy. i say it is the recipe to feed lost souls. ones who will be lost in limbo for all eternity because even in death, their pride was still too big for the afterlife.

there is a special talent i have that is unique for mastering the art of hurt. like x-ray vision it is a power to bring out, in other people, what they don't want anyone to see. i can bring out the worst in a beautiful soul faster than you can look in someone's eyes. i can make monsters of magnificent beings, then call them crazy and be on my way.

Leaving behind a faded tye-dye that's left to hang dry in the sun, knowing that her colours will never shine as bright as they once did, ever again.

.

Something kills me,
I wonder if it's pain,
Set me free,
So that I don't feel this again.

All I want,
Is not something more,
A little breeze,
And let the rain pour.

I stare at the sky,
See the birds fly,
It seems so high,
And wonder, why.

I tell myself not to cry,
But all I want to tell the world,
Is my last goodbye.