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Literature Text
You'll be a lawyer-
I'll be a writer.
You'll probably make more money but-
At least we'll both be doing things we love.
And we'll live on a farm,
Just like you always wanted and...
I want to marry you-
I can't imagine myself with anyone else.
But you don't know that.
We'd both laugh if I told you.
So it's better left unsaid.
I can see us staying up late...
Watching kiddie movies and eating chocolate ice cream.
And having candle lit dates on our bedroom floor-
Taco Bell, of course.
And on winter evenings, we'll curl up on the couch...
With hot chocolate...
As I read aloud to you-
From a book of my choice, of course.
But you don't know this...
You'd think I was weird if I told you.
So it's better left unsaid.
And one day we'll pick out a huge chair.
A chair for cuddling.
And when I'm sad-
You'll hold me in our chair...
And we'll both stay real quiet,
Taking each other in.
And eventually we'll start to talk-
Quiet murmurs at first...
And eventually we'll both be laughing like we do.
But I can't ever tell you.
These things are just better left unsaid.
And on late summer evenings,
As the sun is slowly sinking beyond the horizon-
We'll sit outside,
The two of us-
You'll play your guitar,
And I'll sing love songs.
And it will be perfect.
And I'll wear your shirts to bed-
Just because.
But we won't sleep.
We'll cuddle-
And laugh-
And tell corny jokes...
Until the sun rises.
And then sleep all day...
But it's too perfect-
Too silly-
Too ignorant.
And I can't tell you.
So it's better left unsaid.
And that's where our story ends...
Because I could never tell you.
And sometimes I wonder...
If maybe I told you...
If maybe you felt the same way...
So I wrote you this poem instead.
Literature
She always fell for boys who needed saving.
She always fell for boys who needed saving.
Giving them kisses in the dark
to numb their headache from
drinking too much and yet
not enough to kill lust.
She was always adored by boys, who,
if given the chance, would rebuild
the world for her.
But she wanted to be the heroine
and refused to see
she needed saving, too.
Literature
R.I.P Words
Do you know what it feels like?
To feel something, but...
be unable to express what it is;
to be silent;
to fight it alone.
I know how much it hurts,
but I don't know how to show it.
Poetry used to be my refuge,
a place where I could be alone -
express all my emotions,
without being judged.
I'm losing it.
I can't connect to poetry.
Everything sounds so stupid...
Everything I write sounds stupid.
I have to erase all my feelings,
because they don't sound right.
The words aren't real.
They don't show what I feel
And maybe this will be the last.
Maybe I'm gone:
lost of all emotions.
I'm truly alone...
I used to have poetry.
Now I have not
Literature
You're Not?
You're anorexic if you're thin
You're not? Then you're obese.
If you're different, you're insane
You're not? Then you're a fake.
If you're happy, you're hiding something.
You're not? You must be emo.
If you're dating, you're a slut.
You're not? You must have no friends.
If you're popular, you're a jerk.
You're not? You're a nobody.
If you're quiet, you must be disabled.
You're not? You obnoxious freak.
If you're you, you're wrong.
You're not?
Then you must be perfect.
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Honestly, I couldn't have put it any other way.
I mean every word.
But I'm still not sure about you reading this...
I mean every word.
But I'm still not sure about you reading this...
© 2012 - 2024 AnnieBird
Comments305
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Um I can't remember if I wrote anything the first time I read this, so I apologize if I'm repeating myself in saying that this is beautiful. It's just touching all over again, so thank you for sharing this.