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Literature Text
And it's become too much for me
To the point where I can't even breathe
I wish I'd never known,
Never felt...
Never dreamt...
Mistake after mistake
Like little needles
Prick into my skin
And cause the little punctures to bleed
a pain that begins to feel just like home
&&I should have never existed.
...and now I'm
fading,
fading,
fading
Like the raggedness of old pen on old paper
Like a distant memory of a lover whose name you can't remember
And you don't care to
I wish you wouldn't (remember me)
I'm a shadow
(a whisper)
....and I'm
fading,
fading,
fading
Until nothing's left of me
And no one will even wonder
What's become of me
[I'll d i s a p p e a r.]
And no one would dream to miss me.
I promised I would leave
And break no one's heart
To the point where I can't even breathe
I wish I'd never known,
Never felt...
Never dreamt...
Mistake after mistake
Like little needles
Prick into my skin
And cause the little punctures to bleed
a pain that begins to feel just like home
&&I should have never existed.
...and now I'm
fading,
fading,
fading
Like the raggedness of old pen on old paper
Like a distant memory of a lover whose name you can't remember
And you don't care to
I wish you wouldn't (remember me)
I'm a shadow
(a whisper)
....and I'm
fading,
fading,
fading
Until nothing's left of me
And no one will even wonder
What's become of me
[I'll d i s a p p e a r.]
And no one would dream to miss me.
I promised I would leave
And break no one's heart
Literature
maybe i'll die for the truth
when i was seven, i forgot how to be a kid, and i grew up, and once you grow up, you rarely grow down. when i was fourteen, you told me i made you sad to talk to, and that i should cheer up and look around at all the beautiful things in the world, but you can't see the beauty in things that sicken you. you can't pretend that the world is alright when people are dying and starving and crying and wars are being fought and the right people are losing and the wrong ones are winning-you can't see beauty in these types of things.
when i was seventeen, you told me i was beautiful, but the wrong kind. and i thought, how can you be the wrong kind of
Literature
dear you,
dear you,
hello love. i haven't talked to you for a while now, how have you been holding up without me? i know that life will always throw it's rusting metal obstacles at you, but don't give up hope, dear heart. those bleeding scars will fade eventually, and you won't even notice them after a while.
just remember to bandage them tight; they tend to re-open often.
love, me.
-
dear you,
remember your bottle? throw it away love. you probably need it more than anyone else I know, but it does you no good in keeping it. but you insist on clutching onto this life line, so take my advice: just empty it out, and start afresh.
they were right yo
Literature
A-Little-Bit
I'm feeling a little bit
Seven-months-gone
And a little bit
Dying-without-you
And I don't want to be alone anymore.
I'm feeling a little bit
I-miss-you.
And I'm tired.
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Comments23
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I love poetry where the words themselves paint the picture.