Break meBreak me into pieces and stab me in the back
Go ahead, sit and laugh
You don't understand, you never will
You don't care about the heart that you
Always kill, a thousand times over
Just break me down
Punch me in the face
Throw me around
'Til I'm six feet under ground
Abandon me, go ahead
Leave me here for dead
It's not like you care about me anyways
You just sit there
And mock me
Just leave me here to die
I'm going to be selfish and tell you my mind
You act like you care
But honestly, you don't
SparkA gaze is all it takes.Spark3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
And the one-sided spark flickers ablaze.
Thoughts crowd your mind, whispering ill fates.
Ignoring everyone, you stare, amazed.
Your heart beats faster with every step.
She seems familiar, though you've never met.
A gentle hand taps her on the arm.
She turns to you with a curious alarm.
An awkward moment passes, with silence flying by.
You gather up courage and simply say "Hi."
Another spark, it creates a whole flame.
Dancing like liquid, it burns all the same.
Knight in shining armorI'm looking out the window of this cold, dark towerKnight in shining armor3 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
Days fly by, heck I don't even know the hour
But I guess i'll have to wait a little bit longer
cuz' i'm still waiting on my knight in shining armor
The clock strikes
It must be midnight
And yet from my balcony window I still stare out
Trying my best not to cry or pout
How long must I sit here waiting on you
In thought, and wondering if your intentions are true?
Every girl has her fairytale dream
Mine's "Prince charming riding up on a big, white steed"
But do fairtales really come true?
I guess that I still wonder that too
When will the prince take me away,
to somewhere, anywhere, to a better place?
Is he chivalrous, honorable, noble, and kind
Or is he selfish, greedy, and no great find?
One day i'll meet the man behind the mask
Someday...someday at last
But I guess I'll have to wait a little bit longer
cuz' i'm still waiting on my knight in shining armor.
With A Burning PassionWith A Burning Passion3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The best in me is brought forth by your name in mind
and such feeling brings upon a kindness so keen,
Imperfect as we may be, we may stride,
hands held and lips embraced at every stop.
The future ahead expands, clouded,
Yet illuminated by such passion.
Be it infatuation that we feel,
then be it justified by a Loving Lord.
And in case such love is to soon born,
and too swift in developing,
may it be known that the matter at hand
is that it is real and it grows
quicker than time transcends the human psyche.
O'Angels on high, I beseech you to smile upon this love,
for it is invigorated by this first love of mine,
For that which is God my master.
Beautiful in every sense is she,
my love is swiftly but surely growing,
A human heart cannot contain such a thing
as what is being molded within me.
The Hardest WordThe Hardest Word3 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
I sat up late last night,
Battling with this grievous plight.
Some say words of love are arduous,
But how can those be when they are most desirous?
Some say words of hate are strenuous,
But how can those be when a relationship is poisonous?
So I sat up late last night,
Trying somehow to see the light.
No, here is what I would express without delay.
There are many words that are hard to say,
But the hardest are when someone wants to go away,
To have someone leave without duress,
And calmly wish you all the best.
Yes, to anyone that would say,
"I would hate to hear it that way."
I would simply counter,
"Try having someone smile and look you in the eye,
And calmly say goodbye.
But what's worse still...
You have to reply."
The hardest word is goodbye.
The SketchHe loses his first kiss in autumn. He's twelve, she's just turned thirteen, and at the time he isn't sure what all the fuss is about but knows how special it is anyway.The Sketch3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
She's gorgeous, pale-skin, brown hair, dark eyes always filled with happiness and joy the way he wishes he could be. She doesn't want to be there any more than he does, and they grouse to each other about how they don't need a 'special school.' It's the first time he's worked up the courage to say it.
She carries a book too, just like his sketchbook, but she says it's a diary. It's hung with a little lock on the front and he jokes about it being the key to her heart, a little boy's poor attempt at flirting but she laughs anyway. He wants to hear that laugh again, and he does, when he shyly asks if he can draw her.
It's half-way through his sketch that she leans in and presses her soft lips to his. It's a little clumsy and awkward, given how she's standing up and he's cross-legged on the ground, and nowhere as romantic l