No one knows the real you
Because that person is forever in your head

she's broken
she's scarred
imperfect
and full of flaws
but it just takes one person
one **** person
to see through all of that
all the brokenness
all the scars
her imperfections and flaws
and love them all
love her for who she truly is
love her despite her flaws
love her with all the baggage that she has
because that person would give everything
and anything for her to feel okay
even just for a moment
for her to breathe
for he just wants her to be okay

1.Writing poems for you
2.

I am not afraid of the dark; nor of the many creatures that hide beneath its veil.

I dread the light, both failing flicker and spirited spark; whose existence threatens with the realisation that you are not there...

That you are but a pleasant phantom, whose sight I entertain - Beneath the warm affections of Midnight's rain.

I am not afraid of the dark, though I dread the truth; a gospel that proclaims a life without you. And light just happens to be its evidence, so within Dark's nest, I hide you.

There's writing on the wall, and it all seems so clear. I'm living to give you my all, and you're dying to get away.

Your last text was long, though there was so much that you had left unsaid. You had asked me to be strong, and accept that you were my yesterday. Tell me! What is forgiveness' debt that I see it paid?

My body is keeping up this lie; my eyes don't want to cry. A part of me is missing from the inside, and that part had told me... "Goodbye."

I'm laying in my bed, staring at the ceiling. You're staying in my head, and I can't shake these feelings.

My every word and deed, confesses that you are my need; love has sown her seed, and from it roots my heart bleeds.

I'm laying in my bed, while you're laying in my head, and so this tragedy begins. Might someone please rid Shakespeare of his pen, and let this story come to its end?

The tempest winds are blowing strong, I am slowing falling down; I feel that I am suffocating underneath water, but I can't seem to drown.

My heart can't get any sleep, causes it speeds up its beat, when I tell you that I love you... but you don't repeat.

I am staring at the ceiling, imagining that you are staring back, and for now... I am content with that.

That sweet pang in my heart
when I think of you.

I should study
but honestly,
even you, fool,
make more sense than this