'hate' 'love' 'heartbreak'
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I hate
When people talk about “love.”
Can you call high school romance “love?”Either way, I hate when people talk about it.
People assume I want someone
I wish it didn't happen
I wish it didn't happen
Yet it did
It's a weird thing isn't it, How you can wish for something to happen
but at the sametime don't
I waited up for for you. No answer
But it's cool.
I needed you. To show me you were here show me that you care
Show me that everyone gets busy sometimes so there's no reason for me to start
I dwell in possibility-
A place where-
Validation comes easily-
Because I no longer flourish in it-
Where my blankets don’t disgust me-
Because they’re not laced with whispers of your love-
Dear Love, Hate, Me, and You.
I Hate the way you’re always right.
And I hate the way you look at me.
Our voices sore from screaming
Our bodies ache from fights
You pull me close and whisper
It's all because i love you.
My name is Noor.
When I was 5 years old, I asked my mother: What does my name mean?
Her answer was the same as God's answer when a 5 year old Lucifer asked Him "What does my name mean?"
Heaviness filled my heart as each day goes by.The thought of you gives me an electric chargeI wish for it to be divine but yet it hurts like hellThen I keep wondering wasn't it suppose to be magicalAs we do watch it in the movies?But the only chem
you say you love me
say you love to fuck me
but I alway end up in the water I can't swim
Izaya I love you
but you can't see the bigger picture
it hard being gay
for a person who alway bitter
She fell from my arms into the burnt rose bush. Ashen peddles covered most of her in clouds. As she lay the charm I knew dims. The spark of life left her eyes. All that remained was a dull blue gaze into the sun.
Cinderella danced with glee
for only she could see,
she was getting married.
Dancing in her velvet dress,
she was rather impressed,
to see her husband soon.
Maybe I'd be better off without oneIt wouldn't be able to breakand I wouldn't be unhappyYou wouldn't be able to hurt meand your words would mean nothing to me.Your actions would wash over me;
Flowers in the fall
Is like young love, at first they are crisp and luminous
Then slowly the flowers become brittle insecure of itself
Let me speak the truth of this heart,
That no one wants,
To see, touch, or feel its true intentions,
Of not lust that fulfills most sapiens,
Love me
please.
No,
never mind
you already
ran away.
'Poor desperate freak,'
those are the
words
that run
through your
mind.
Yes, yes
poor me,
You and I we´re made of broken glass
broken dreams
broken hope
bitter dust
burnt to ashes
stuck in a timelapse
of what we could have been
could´ve done
should´ve said
