15. ForgetAnd the worst part is, you'll never get it.
No, you'll never get it, and I can explain over and over again until I'm blue in the face. You'll still stand there, clueless, just like you always do.
Maybe it's worse since you don't feel the same and I'm sitting here waiting. Waiting for you to feel waiting for you to open up your eyes and see I've always been here. I'm waiting for you to let in the one person who doesn't see you as they do, but as something more. Who knows.
Maybe even yet, the way we have everything we do, but search for more. Always searching, never finding. We exchange those words of happiness, but do we ever mean it? I just can't tell with you anymore.
No more: the only words that seem to exist in my subconscious mind. You had your chance, you had your second chance, and each time you beat me down a little more. I just can't do this anymore.
Once in a blue moon I can look into those hazel eyes of yours and feel the way I used to: the butterflies stirring in the d
2. BirthdayThe eager one year old clasped her hands, cooing as she tried to form simple words of excitement. She may not have understood the occasion but she smiled, looking at the crowd gathering around her and her mother held her tightly in her arms:
"My baby is growing up."
Little Anna continued making incoherent noises as they sang "Happy Birthday."
In a blink of an eye, her baby was turning 16. At 5'6", she was a blonde-haired, blue-eyed beauty with every guy tailing her and a wish for a candy apple red mustang. She was invincible; the world was waiting to be conquered and to the world she didn't matter. Her mother held her tightly in her arms
"My baby is growing up. Happy Birthday,"
and Anna waved goodbye as she met up with her friends.
At 18, she had learned from her mistakes. Her friends had fallen prisoner to life one by one, but Anna had gritted her teeth and brushed the dirt off her knees. She had made it through high school and was on her way to a new life, and her mother held her tig
13. Can't"Why can't we go back to how we were?"
Things are different, you see. Everything. Not just the way we express sickly words used to communicate feigned feelings of love and affection, the way you style your hair in hopes to boost your appearance, or the empty feeling left where my heart used to be. No, it's much more than that. It's the promises you never say anymore, the ones you used to keep. It's the tension when we're together and the lack of conversation. It's the absence of feeling I have when you say you love me. Oh it's so much more.
It's when you think everything is fine and I'm afraid of pointing out wrongs. It's when you yell at me in frustration and I'm choking back tears so I don't make things worse. I can't even tell you how many times I would drive and drive and drive, lost as if in a trance, careless as to where I went or what happened to me. As much as I cared for you, I knew I couldn't do this we couldn't do this.
And we couldn't.
But then you did something
12. DeathReaching to the sky, petals outstretched to the warming rays of light, the little daffodil wasn't aware of the chaos below. The disease spread to the bulb and began consuming the very source of water, of nourishment, of life. It squelched the supply and spread through the stem, scorching the inside and killing the outside. The delicate petals were the last to go, wilting in the sun, as the rot devoured the remains of life. The daffodil sunk over in defeat.
The weather had grown cooler and the sun didn't shine quite so bright. The grass lay trodden in the soft ground, its green color fading. Tree tops shone gold in the dimming sunset; auburn colors trickled down the leaves and spilled onto blades of grass. An oak tree stood tall and proud in the center of a clearing, and as the breeze picked up, brittle leaves lost grip on reality and fluttered to the ground. Then the snow came.
A son, a brother, a father, a lover. He had strived to be successful in order to support those who were close
14. TimeI know things don't always work for us. Life isn't a bunch of sugar coated words and bubble wrap to cushion our falls. There aren't blindfolds to shield our eyes from what we don't want to believe; ignorance isn't bliss and this will never be more than a trail of broken hearts if we don't try.
You were hurt. I know. Trust me, I know. I spent months lost in time and space and on the rare occasion I would come back long enough to gulp some air, to suffocate, to choke. I'd lay awake at night and pray for the numbing effects of an exhausted mind: the absence of every feeling and the absence of you, but the feeling of an empty heart never left. My subconscious mind would torture me. I can't tell you how many nights I spent "watching" you walk away over and over and I couldn't take it anymore. I'd wake up with reopened scars and feelings of impending doom.
In class you'd catch me looking at you, longing for you. I usually could look away but every once in a while I held my gaze to see you no
I do.Stepping down the aisle, dress as white as snow,
the summer breeze makes her veil blow.
A carpet of rose petals flutter around,
twisting, turning, as they fall to the ground.
He watches her as she draws near
and with each step, it's more clear:
this walk begins their life
and there's nothing left to fear.
Nerves spike. She's by his side.
Hand in hand, they stand before the alter,
their love and affection won't ever falter.
Do you take her to have and to hold
They wait for their life to unfold.
She peered into his sea blue eyes,
squeezing her hand, there stood the prize.
For better or for worse,
until death do you part?