bring back tumblr ask culture let me. bother you with questions and statements
Yep.
You were my home.
My salvation.
My anchor.
And when you left,
I crumbled.
to the ruins.
"poeticide".
the agony of being a poet
is not actually found
in being unable to write;
it's worse. my downfall is choosing to relive the pain
with every word, emotions inexpressible;
i try to exclaim: desperately
crying for help, in verse,
doomed to repeat
the cycle
until nobody is left
to witness me.
"poeticide."
d.b.a
note: i have no foolish intentions and cherish life, as well as my place within it. the emotions i feel and express are very real, but be at ease - everything will be okay, for myself and you, the reader.
no matter how much i try,
in the end i became what i feared,
just an average.
you have been on my mind for so long,
you have been my dream,
my first and last thought of a day,
and that's why
its so hard for me.
to let you go.
as if you never mattered.
how inhuman of me,
to break my heart
and bones
again and again, through the night
all by myself.
so damn true.
Warner: Look at me straight in the eyes and tell me the truth, Kishimoto. Kenji: You can’t expect me to look into your eyes and be straight.
Andrea Gibson, Lord of the Butterflies
My thoughts,
they terrify me.