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Literature Text
I can't believe I was so blind,
Now I feel like I'm left behind;
I call out to you to help me stand,You don't even lend me a hand.
I hear that you are moving on,
But I'm stuck and my strength is gone.
Others help, but it just won't do:
I can only be saved by you.I've forced myself to keep on track,
Yet these thoughts hold me back.
My anger is now growing strong,
I only hope it won't last long.
My heart is fixed and turned away,
But a small part for you will stay:
This part holds the memories
Of when I lived with no worries.
Now I wish I could just forget,
'Cause all I see now is regret.These things inside just kill me;
I want to move on, to be free.
I give up on you, I feel pain,
And know that it drives me insane
You know it's not part of my style,
But I can't bear to see you smile.
Literature
My Mask
So many nights with the razor to my wrist
so many scars that turn and twist
showing the pain, hurt and deceit
each and every day, doomed to repeat
My facade has been built
I wear my mask, but with guilt
why is it so hard to break down and cry
it hurts too much, even to try
My true self hidden behind a wall
to climb, its much too tall
break it down slowly, chip it away
maybe I'll be free one day
Literature
Masks
When a smile is a frown
And a frown is a smile,
The eyes we must crown
For relinquishing wile,
When a laugh is a tear
And a tear holds no pain,
Will fear fear to fear
And fearfully abstain?
When the act is the truth
We've lied to believe,
And the fable in sooth
Is but a peerless weave,
When each mortal mistake
Is a tale and a song
And the scriptures are fake
Or perhaps they're wrong,
When the mind is the eye
That sees the outside
But shame, it's too shy
Of the tongue which has lied,
When the answers are easy
To the questions unknown,
Do you not feel queasy
Of how little we've grown?
When acceptance is feigning
For it
Literature
roads
i always did like the way i swing around narrow curves,
how i glide with the center lines, never crossing them, just following their lead.
it's kind of beautiful when you think about it. that is,
if you can find beauty in that sort of thing.
most people don't find beauty in driving.
fuck, most people don't find beauty in anything.
except maybe themselves or some overrated celebrity in designer jeans.
one of my past boyfriends said he didn't trust me behind a wheel.
"woman drivers" was his reason.
fuck him.
i almost lost my virginity in a car. truck, rather.
didn't happen though. i was too afraid of us getting caught.
we were parke
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an old poem i wrote, still having been in my slight depression and not getting even a word from the person who was gone from me
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