People are dreams
and dreams never last
and we forget
because it's easier
than trying to hold on
And slowly our heart regrows
the place where they were
and it's okay because they're gone
and were never here
in the first place
Her.Yeah, I have a boyfriendHer. by Texting
But her; she's spectacular
I feel excited when I hold her
Like a kid in a candy store
This is almost a clean slate
When we flirt, when we kiss
It just feels right
I don't see it as it looks; "lesbians in love"
I feel we are just two more people
On this rock with billions to spare
But there's this building guilt
On my heart; in my mind
Because I still have him
And I don't want to lose what we have
He's perfect for me
Yet, she is everything he is not
It's nice to change things up a bit
Sometimes flames will die out
Other times they will spread
At this point, I'm surrounded by ashes
The only fire lives within me
Where my heart will be burnt to the third degree.
Almost Perfectthe sun is melting away,Almost Perfect by intricately-ordinary
we call it romantic when
all good things die quietly;
I feel like I’m always transitioning
through different levels of sobriety:
spent up on the people in my life
like the girl who doesn’t remember
my name and the boy who thought
I was joking.
(I will care for myself, and
then the world will stop and
spin in the right direction;
the mirror will blur and
I will finally see me,
unfiltered and beautiful)
I just want to believe
that somewhere there’s a boy
ready to sing my bleeding ears
with a cinnamon voice, he
will tell me I couldn’t
possibly be human: something
otherworldly, a moonmaid with
starry eyes come to make
and it would be almost perfect,
floating in that jagged gap where
devotion seems to breed and
where I could finally sleep,
untouched and sober.
The Red WallThe red wall,The Red Wall by funkeysanddance
She contains the blood curdling secrets.
Promising not to tell
Even a single soul.
The pain that she sees
Behind the pale blue eyes
Of the little girl
Who hides from daddy in her closet.
She can’t speak a word.
The horror that she witnesses
In the little pills
That the mother
Chokes down from sorrow.
She sees it all.
The anger she hears
In the booming voice
Of the father
Who lives to kill.
Nobody else could ever know.
The red wall who sees terror,
Could share what she knows,
With just one other person.
Messsage in a bottleSometimes people cry out for help,Messsage in a bottle by katr14
I think we all have witnessed it,
We watch them break,
We watch their tears,
And we see something in their eyes,
The last piece of hope,
The hope that as well could be a message in a bottle.
Who will ever know if someone noticed that tiny little bottle in the ocean,
Or if they did,
Did they pick it up?
I have seen a lot of bottles in my time,
And most of the time I pick them up,
But I notice quite a few times I don´t,
It is like they become invisible,
Even if they scream loudly right in front of you,
I think something is wrong,
Why do we leave the bottle in the ocean?
I clearly can see they need help,
And I see it,
I really do,
How can you pretend not to?