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Literature Text
The moment you said no,
You asked to die.
You never cared how it would affect anyone else.
You did what you wanted.
Now the people that love you the most are watching you die.
You don't care,
You act like everything is fine.
Why don't you turn around and notice all the pain.
You sleep all day,
And hardly eat.
I wonder if you really care about anything at all.
I always wondered why you said no.
Maybe it was because you were selfish.
Or because you were depressed.
But I guess it doesn't matter.
One day you wont be the boss of yourself anymore.
Someone else is going to take over.
They are going to make your decisions for you,
And you are just going to have to deal with it.
When that day comes,
It will be better for everyone,
And everyone will live healthier lives.
Even you.
No matter how much time you have left.
Even though I don't understand,
And I am so angry,
I still want you to die happy,
And not in the place you call home.
Because I know that I don't call that home anymore.
I call it hell.
You asked to die.
You never cared how it would affect anyone else.
You did what you wanted.
Now the people that love you the most are watching you die.
You don't care,
You act like everything is fine.
Why don't you turn around and notice all the pain.
You sleep all day,
And hardly eat.
I wonder if you really care about anything at all.
I always wondered why you said no.
Maybe it was because you were selfish.
Or because you were depressed.
But I guess it doesn't matter.
One day you wont be the boss of yourself anymore.
Someone else is going to take over.
They are going to make your decisions for you,
And you are just going to have to deal with it.
When that day comes,
It will be better for everyone,
And everyone will live healthier lives.
Even you.
No matter how much time you have left.
Even though I don't understand,
And I am so angry,
I still want you to die happy,
And not in the place you call home.
Because I know that I don't call that home anymore.
I call it hell.
Literature
The Same
You're like him.
Not in t
Literature
Obsession
You are my obsession.
Source of my depression.
One that I crave.
Love that is depraved.
I still hold on to.
I would die for you.
Even if you're not here.
My mind just won't clear.
Only one I want.
Continually haunt.
Mentally I attack.
I'd still take you back.
Glad you disappeared.
Return I feared.
Walk through my door.
Want you even more.
Wonder if I'll heal.
Was this even real?
Literature
Battle Cry
I write poetry to ghosts in my dreams
awakening with ink stained sheets
from nights I can't remember,
meaningless phantom words upon my flesh.
And this cigarette between my fingertips
taunts me,"Hey baby, heycatch me on fire
and I'll burn you away." I laugh, hollow
unafraid of flames & smoke & shadows.
I've felt it all before.
I'm washing away the ink with homemade
remedies. Like it never was;
Like I never was.
But there is love on my arms now
smirking and itching away at me.
I'll claw it out a hundred times over
because remembering you
that is worse than self-inflicted injury.
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A new poem that I wrote last night about some real life experiences occurring in my life right now.
So this holds close to my heart.
So this holds close to my heart.
© 2012 - 2024 LovingDestiny
Comments5
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Deep very deep loved it.