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Literature Text
i am so sorry
for all the petals I wasted
wondering if you loved me
and I am so, so pitifully destroyed
after you tore the wildflowers from my hand
said to let loose
I am lost now
because home is with you
and home
is a terrible
terrible place
I don't miss you
I miss myself
for all the petals I wasted
wondering if you loved me
and I am so, so pitifully destroyed
after you tore the wildflowers from my hand
said to let loose
I am lost now
because home is with you
and home
is a terrible
terrible place
I don't miss you
I miss myself
Literature
A Haiku
Light well past Midnight
full moon glow, lamp post bright, or
Netflix Marathon
Literature
Irretrievably Broken
What can you do when the person who is supposed to love you the most doesn't care at all?
What should you do when the person who is supposed to have your back at all times stabs you in it instead?
What does it say when all the people who were supposed to be friends to both of you kept their silence?
I may forgive one day, but I will never trust again.
Literature
The Woman In Black.
Hollow.
There is no other word fitting enough to describe her eyes. If one could even call them eyes, for to me they were shadows, sunken black holes in a sunken white face. Paper thin, her pale skin stretched painfully over razor sharp cheekbones, so thin it was almost translucent.
Her lips were two dead roses. Once, there had been colour there. Youth, life. Now, the blossoms had withered, leaving only two white husks to remain. Barely there, she was a ghost, a spectre of her former self, all the years of bitterness and hatred and pain bleaching away her beauty.
A sheet of sorrow, akin to a shroud, was the black veil that frosted over her
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i wish i never had to know what it was like to miss yourself or memories theres no way to comprehend the feeling
© 2014 - 2024 Phan5everx2
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You are so talented at this stuff, my friend. Always inspired by reading your work.