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Literature Text
i made a mistake
when i told you that i could love you
forever. i know now that the only thing
i can know for certain is that nothing
will ever be certain again. we could
wake up tomorrow and feel something
completely different. we could wake up
tomorrow and be completely different.
that's the exciting part. it's also the
part that makes it hard to even fall asleep
in the first place.
my heart attacks
my every whim and everyday is this whirlwind
of terror and elation and i don't even know
where to end or begin or if this makes sense
anymore, but the one thing i've come to realize
is the worst kind of lie will always be the
ones you don't even know you're telling. so
i'd say i'm sorry, but i'd like to think you
already know. it's nothing worth repeating.
nothing ever is.
when i'm tired
i tend to miss you in an overwhelming sort of
way just because i'm not strong enough to fight
these feelings full time. i'm more of a halfway
girl, but there are a few things i fully understand
and one of them is that if it was meant to be, it
would be, but it's not so i won't spend the rest of
my life trying to convince you that i could be the
girl you could love if you'd let me. because this
is simply over in the most complete of ways. but
still i hope.
i hope that you wake up
one day and wonder where i am. i hope that you wake
up and it hurts like hell. i hope you wake up and
miss me more than you can bear. but most of all, i
just hope you keep waking up long after i've stopped
and by then, please promise we'll forget all of this.
forget all of me.
when i told you that i could love you
forever. i know now that the only thing
i can know for certain is that nothing
will ever be certain again. we could
wake up tomorrow and feel something
completely different. we could wake up
tomorrow and be completely different.
that's the exciting part. it's also the
part that makes it hard to even fall asleep
in the first place.
my heart attacks
my every whim and everyday is this whirlwind
of terror and elation and i don't even know
where to end or begin or if this makes sense
anymore, but the one thing i've come to realize
is the worst kind of lie will always be the
ones you don't even know you're telling. so
i'd say i'm sorry, but i'd like to think you
already know. it's nothing worth repeating.
nothing ever is.
when i'm tired
i tend to miss you in an overwhelming sort of
way just because i'm not strong enough to fight
these feelings full time. i'm more of a halfway
girl, but there are a few things i fully understand
and one of them is that if it was meant to be, it
would be, but it's not so i won't spend the rest of
my life trying to convince you that i could be the
girl you could love if you'd let me. because this
is simply over in the most complete of ways. but
still i hope.
i hope that you wake up
one day and wonder where i am. i hope that you wake
up and it hurts like hell. i hope you wake up and
miss me more than you can bear. but most of all, i
just hope you keep waking up long after i've stopped
and by then, please promise we'll forget all of this.
forget all of me.
Literature
reality?
You want me to save
The person you all see;
I'm dying to save
The girl I'll never be.
Literature
so kill me, mockingbird
i once said, listen up,
because here's the way
it's going to work:
there will be milky ways
and mountains and clouds
dancing with rain,
the sun won't quite
look the same, and the moon
won't seem so dull.
i once said, come closer,
because there's something
that you need to know:
at night we'll breathe
against each other, move
with each other,
and our delirious melodies
will wake the waves
and shake the stars.
i once said, stay here,
don't go, never ever
leave me:
but here i am now,
eating my words
from a silver platter.
Literature
compulsive liar.
once i asked you your favourite
colour, and you said, "the brown
of your eyes," so i put in one green
contact and told everyone that i
came out of the womb as a factory
defect, half-priced, damaged goods.
-
sometimes i am from canada and
sometimes i am from england and
sometimes i am from spain.
i've carefully tempered my accents
and plotted out my stories with
yellow and purple coloured pencils
on index cards. my origin changes
like the seasons.
"why do you lie to everyone?" you
ask.
"why not?" i reply.
-
i wear nametags that read "alicia"
and "liana" and "samantha," because
i want to know how it feels to be
someon
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nonsense is what i'm best at. this is what i write in the middle of this night when i can't sleep. it barely makes sense anymore.
© 2011 - 2024 paperheartsyndrome
Comments61
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This is a beautifully simple thought that tugs at the heart strings and I really enjoyed it!