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Literature Text
The girl he loves is midnight, like the blue of the sea cradled by the moonlight.
The girl he loves is verdant, the very green of the hill kissed by the summer delight.
The girl he loves is coral, as pink as the roses that grow in his mother's garden.
The girl he loves is crimson, red like the autumn leaves that lay abandoned.
The girl he loves I can never be
Because he's allergic to violets,
And violets are too much like me.
The girl he loves is verdant, the very green of the hill kissed by the summer delight.
The girl he loves is coral, as pink as the roses that grow in his mother's garden.
The girl he loves is crimson, red like the autumn leaves that lay abandoned.
The girl he loves I can never be
Because he's allergic to violets,
And violets are too much like me.
Literature
You said....
You told me “friends forever”,
More like ‘friends for now’,
As your sweet promises
Were just lies I allowed.
You said “we are best friends”,
More like ‘friends at best’,
As your solid affirmations
Were all digressed.
You told me “I need you”
More like ‘you need me’
As your statements
Were my last plea.
Why did you go?
Why did you leave?
I’m left here all alone
Trying, in us, to believe.
Literature
How To Show A Girl She Can Love Herself
When you see her cry
you get a rag,
a gentle delicate clothe
lovingly grasp her hand
and dab its tip
to dry each tear as they come
and ask each drop
why it'd leave
such beautiful eyes.
If she wishes
to be in the sky
Tell her to go
Take the sun ransom
And replace it in the sky
So you can see her every morning
and plead for her
To return each night.
When you see her scars
Both visible
And non
touch each
gently like you might
caress the broken wing
Of a dove
and remind her
that for every hurt
that she's survived
has only made her
that much more unique
that much stronger.
Show her that she is worthy of love
That she deserves the love
she
Literature
Silly Girl
Silly girl,
Whose eyes rain crystals,
Why do you wish to heal?
Do you not understand the beauty
Of your ability to feel?
Silly girl,
Whose grin’s so bright,
Why do you wish to change?
A soul with no emotion
Would appear to be quite strange.
Silly girl,
Whose face is dull,
Why do you live this myth?
You choose to be a shadow,
Smashing daisies with your fist.
Silly girl,
With wounds and scars,
Why have you chosen this death?
No, sinking into your own grave
Would be better than such regret.
Silly girl,
You’ve started to feel,
Just recently you’ve started to cry.
You’ve been down this path again and again,
With a pain
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I haven't written in ages. And all I have been able to come out with after struggling with a blank page the whole day, is THIS.
When I was thirteen a Wordsworth like boy who was loved nature and who I liked very much told me that he was not now, not ever going to date me because I was too different, too boyish compared to other girls.
If I met him today, I would tell him: "Actually I like being different. Oh...and from thirteen year old me, fuck you."
© 2013 - 2024 UntamedUnwanted
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Ouch.
Nice rythem. I like this
Nice rythem. I like this