Reality Is Only A DreamI woke up this morning crying. My eyes poured out tears. I felt so childish. It wasn't a nightmare that woke me up. It was what he said in my dream. 'I want to forget you and everything I've ever said to you' Again I burst into tears. Those words tore at me. Somewhere deep in deep in my gut. It's not that I wouldn't understand if those words were true. It's just that I don't want them to be true.I scrambled for my phone and quickly sent him a message asking the real him, if those words were true. I waited anxiously for a reply. But until the reply came, I was sobbing into my pillow and blankets. I wondered if perhaps babies when they wake up crying, maybe they have bad dreams like mine, that are simple. Finally he replied with a no, but it didn't stop me from continuing my sobbing spree. I felt pathetic. I felt out of control. I hated that my dreams could control my emotions so easily.I sat in bed for over 15 minutes just thinking about that dream, and everything it could mean. Perha
I'm WaitingI'm waiting forthe butterflies to returnto the place in my stomachwhere they once livedI'm waiting forthe razor edged bladesto dulland fade awayI'm waiting for that timewhen all I'll know issmiles and loveand not painand suicideI'm waiting forwhen I'm able to telltruth from a liea lie from a truthand when I'm really wrongI'm waiting forthe end of timewhen forever is no longera pointless wordused to express your loveI'm waitingfor things to settleand the sands of timeto continue to goat a steady pace
Just For SomeoneI'm not sure,that you know who you are,and I can't say,I know for sure,who you truly are either.I can't say,that you haven't hurt me,in one way or another.I can't say,that you haven't been a part,of my life in some way.I can't say,that I'm not jealous of you,or envious,or angry at you.I'm not sure,you know how much,you've become a part of my life,even though,it's quite a small part.And I'm quite sure,you don't realize,that I want to help,be a shoulder you can lean on,when all your other friends are gone.Because,truly I understand how it feels,to have so much drama,and feel like no one cares.
Your NotebookI tilt my head to the side and wonder if you see me watching you. You're probably too busy doing whatever it is that you do with that notebook that you never let go off. I've always wondered. Are you a poet? A drawer? (as silly as that one sounds) A story writer? What is it that you write in that notebook.You've had it since school started and it's been four months. And ever since the second week of school, and I started noticing you, I've wondered. I've been tempted to ask you several times. Just scoot myself across the picnic table, and ask you. But. I haven't had the courage.My friend Sarah teases me for my obsession with your notebook, and she's told me on numerous occasions just to ask you already. But I'm almost has cowardly as the Cowardly Lion in the Wizard of Oz. I'm frightened of my own shadow. And talking to you would take up my reserve of courage for the next twenty years.I frown at that thought. Twenty years is a long time away from now. By then I could be dead, and I c
What Was, What Is NowI've lost controlof myself and my thoughtsYour lies pour off your tongueso smoothlylike the r's you're so proud ofbeing able to rollthe tongue that I'd likenothing better to cut offfor so many reasonsfor the disgust i feeland i want to destroyeverything that onceor could every remind methat such things existas smooth talking liarsthat like nothing betterto hurt peoplebut maybe in the endit's built into your DNAlike height of your bodyor the color of your skinmaybe it's my faultfor being so trustingand for wanting to believein somethingi guess my dad never taught meshitafter all his broken promisesyou would of thoughtthat i would of learned at a younger agebut noyou come alongand changed every fucking thingwho i amhow i thinkwhat i believewho i trustyou changed it all witha few smooth liesi gave up one of the best thingsbecause of younow i feel so sickbutterflies replacedwith knives that killi can't believeanything this world has to offerany