And haunted by the thoughts of you
This is for you hun'
Your face is smiling at me
A fake, ghost-version of your old beautiful smile
Teasing me with what could have been
What I could have had
Those bright blue eyes look at me
But the sparkle is gone
Now they're just the eyes of a stranger
I watched you dissappear
I stood by and saw you fade away
Only a ghost is left of the old you
There was nothing I could do
So this is for you my dear
I'm holding you oh so tight
Fighting to bring you back to life
I'm falling asleep with tears in my eyes
These teardrops fall for you
This is all for you my love
My last fright, our last fright.
When it comes I'll look away,
Begin to pray, I'm that afraid;
No, it's not a play.
When you see, you'll feel all you've done to me.
How I came to be, how I split in 3.
Just be sure to always remember me.
Now I'm ready,
Can't feel greedy.
Goodbye, here comes the levity;
To see me free,
From all the cheating, thieving, leaving,
All need me, just hear me, can't see me, goodbye lovely.
Blinding those around him.
His eyes are like emeralds,
Twinkling with silent laughter.
His hair's like silk,
Soft to run my hands through.
His arms are like stone,
Protective and loving.
His laughter's like music,
Making my heart dance to its own beat.
His mouth's like a rose,
Biting me for cries of bliss,
Or touching me softly for moans.
Facing an unavoidable possibility,
He loves me,
He loves me not.
Praying to find the truth.
He loves me,
He loves me not.
Stuck asking answer-less questions,
Searching for a sign.
He loves me,
He loves me not.
Wondering- Does he too?
What do I mean to him?
He loves me,
He loves me not.
Letting the wind take the petals,
Loosing my troubles and letting them fly.
He loves me,
He loves me not?
He's just a boy who stole my heart & hasn't returned it.
I haven't felt anything like this with anyone, but him.
I hate to say it, but I love him.
& until I have reconciliation from him or someone else I won't really love anyone sincerely.
I truthfully haven't loved anyone since him..
Never have I looked at someone & immediately start to choke, cry & shake all at once.
I lost my balance & my heart started bounding through my chest.
Why did this happen?
My life's always been full of a whole bunch of why's.
I don't understand.
It's been 5 minutes as I'm writing this & since I've last seen him..
I haven't stopped shaking.
Every time I hear his name, I faint.
"It's just a name."
It's his name.
The name I sadly fell in love with.
It will forever haunt me.
The name I will never forget..
I hate him, but I can't help loving him.
& it's sad th
and he kisses them away lovingly;
she flinches warily from his touch.
He takes her chin between his fingers,
turning her face up to his own.
Don't look at me.
Her beautiful blue eyes swim.
He is confused.
Why not, darling?
A sob wracks her body,
along with a fresh wave of tears.
His eyes fill with loving concern.
You're not ugly.
He leans closer -
a soft gasp escapes her -
their faces inches apart.
You're beautiful, baby.
He kisses her soft lips,
and for the first time in her life
she feels utterly beautiful.
I'm not the perfect girl that's quirky and sweet and just right,
I'm not the dancer or singer that steals your heart without you even realizing.
I'm not pretty or skinny or good looking or graceful.
I'm plain, I'm ordinary, and I blend into the crowd.
I'm not the puzzle piece that fits "just right".
And I'm not messed up.
I don't hurt or starve myself.
If you dump me I won't kill myself.
I don't do illegal things and don't want to.
I'm not in danger or peril.
I don't even get bullied at school.
You can't save me.
I don't know who would want me,
And those I can imagine would scare me half to death.
So I'm giving up for now. I'm young, I can afford to wait.
I just hope I'm not too late.
so much gets lost in between the verbs and the nouns
that the words that, miraculously, make it out of my mouth
are always miles away from what I meant to say.
and sentences formed on a notebook or typed onto my blinding screen
because my thoughts are always
so it's the best thing
in the entire universe
when I can get my damn point across
without civilization's most overrated achievement.
When he knows just what I mean
just by looking into
When do the angels come as a clutch?
Falling on downwards with no malice intentions.
Too late for the blessings of a reverend.
Into dim nothings the hate swells away,
On through trenched hallways your fate begins to say...
No more, or all...
Nienawiści i nawiści,
Wszelkie szczęścia zawiłości...
Ach, korzyści, niekorzyści!
Miłość sprawą jest nieprostą.
Ją zrozumieć - wyczyn duży.
Paradoksy, nieścisłości -
Czasem ciszą wynik burzy.
Więc czy warto ryzykować?
Poświecenie warte sprawy?
W takie gówno się pakować...?
Bez ryzyka brak zabawy!
2. His eyes
3. His laugh
4. His voice
5. His hands
6. His protective arms
7. His hugs
8. His kisses
9. His sarcasm
10. The way he strokes my cheek
11. The way he plays with my hair
12. The way he just watches me
13. The way he holds me when I'm scared
14. The way he holds my hand as we walk
15. His little concentrated look when he plays the guitar
16. His enthusiasm
17. The way he daydreams
18. The look he gives me when he just wakes up
19. The way he just cuddles me when I'm tired
20. The softness in his eyes when he's worried about me
21. The way he worries about me
22. The way he tells me everything
23. The way he kisses me to shut me up
24. The way his hand always finds mine
25. The gentleness of his touch
26. The way he cares for me
27. His disappointed face
28. The way he doesn't care how hyper or crazy I am
29. The way he kisses my neck
30. The way he looks when he's standing on the doorstep
31. The way he never wants to say goodbye
32. The way he always finds time
If it ever reoccurs, know I'll be here by your side.
I'll stick by you when you think you've lost it all.
I'll be here for you to catch you if you fall.
I'll try to help you in any possible way I can.
If you'll just let me in, let me be part of the plan.
I want the best for you, for everything to be okay.
I don't want you to feel down at the end of the day.
Don't think that it's not possible for you to change.
It may happen slowly, but it's in your range.
You're not worthless or a lost cause in my eyes.
You're so much more, almost like a prize.
If something ever happens, I know we'll make it through.
Because what I'm really trying to say is, I believe in you.
I'd put on high heels,
Just to see how tall I can be,
I'd go shopping with the gals,
And max out my credit card.
We'd talk about boys,
And I'd play it cool
If I see him looking my way.
If I were a girl
I'd pull him from his buddies,
drag him away till we're alone,
and just sit and stare at his eyes.
I'd shrug off his playful insults,
And trap his compliments in my ears.
I'd realize that the hours spent in front of the mirror are useless,
that the reflection brings out a pessimistic side in me,
And I'd realize, every minute spent in front of my lifeless doppelganger,
Is another minute I can spend with him.
If I were a girl
I'd push those makeup products to the side of the dresser,
Until most of them fall in and around the trash bin,
Because I'd know when he strokes my cheek, or when he kisses me,
He wants to feel me with his touch, not a cosmetic mask,
And he doesn't want to pull away with a taste of peach on his lips.
I'd watch him wait out
Aunt May was out working her double-shift, Peter was asleep in his room and you? Well, you were busy on the net looking for a way to solve your brothers' web-shooters so he could face Max Dillion. But your plans will be put on hold when, your long-time friend, Harry Osborn throws snowballs at your window ... what could he want at this time of night?
You sat in your bed with your laptop perfectly poised to rest on your lap and a mug of cocoa, which Peter had made earlier, to the side. The fairy lights in your room emitted a soft sunset yellow and purple light on the walls. Your blanket covered your legs to keep from the cold, even though you were still wearing socks.
You were busy looking up ways in which Peter’s web shooters would not explode against Electro while your brother slept peacefully next door. Aunt May had gone to the hospital for a double-shift even though you had insisted against it, purely out of concern for your mother-like aunt.
" My name is Brooke Hollis. I am children's literature graduate student and Expository Writing instructor at Kansas State University and am currently doing a study on portrayals of Snape's character in different mediums (novel, film, video games, etc) and the character's rise in popularity.
I was wondering if you might be able to tell me a bit about when you became a fan, why you like the character so much (I, too, am a big Snape fan!), etc.
If you can answer these questions at all it would be greatly appreciated and helpful for my paper.
Thank you so much for your time ! "
11 November 2010
8 Days till the Deathly Hallows I premier
At first, I hope you don't mind I just called you Brooke. Since I expect every Snape fan to be a sort of
I gaze down onto his sleeping face.
When I look at him,
I think that,
he's the most beautiful creature on this earth.
I can't imagine why,
why he would choose to stay with me.
He's so perfect.
He makes me laugh,
he makes me cry.
He makes me feel
what I've never felt before.
Every emotion comes alive.
I hold his hand
and never want to let go.
I can't imagine never having
I want to wake up every morning
and see that perfect face next to mine.
I want to feel what I'm feeling now with only him, and no one else.
I want to be a part of every
aspect of his life.
If I didn't have him,
I think I would stop breathing.
i love you Russell....
Ach, życie bym zań oddała!
Ja też mu byłam kimś bliskim,
Tak strzała Amora chciała.
Z czasem wszystko przeminęło.
Nogi za pas i uciekło.
Choć uczucie już zniknęło,
Zostawiło w spadku piekło.
Moje serce, no cóż, szlocha.
Nadal nie wiem, co się stało.
Czasem myślę sobie - kochać
to po prostu jest zbyt mało.
No, I dont. But I certainly wont be telling you that. You Youre Mr. Perfect with your perfect life and your perfect wife, and and even your perfect little kids who are perfectly astounding at every little thing that they attempt to do. No way.
I think so. It was a halfhearted lie at best; concocted through elaborate repetition of denial over a certain love I hold for a certain someone else, a man Im certain is far above leaving his perfect wife just to be with Plain Old Ordinary Me.
And when I fall asleep in my almost perfect bedroom, lulled into almost perfect dreams by the almost perfect background noise just outside of my almost perfect house, I dream of his perfect hands caressing my cheeks, his perfect arms encircling my body to pull me close to his perfectly toned chest. But when I turn to gaze into his perfect blue eyes, I instead see dark orbs of the blackest pitch, accented
to Blue Hill.
I kiss the gravestones
and breathe in the hands of ghosts
listening for the echo
of their voices in my bones.
Our tears fall for him
like the scales of fish;
the sweet taste of wax jambu
that lingers on the tongue.
and I love him for his words,
like so many others,
dripping poetry into his hands.
It's not his fading heart we feel,
it's the sound of his soul.
and we trace the empty pages
waiting helplessly for his pen
to bring us into the light.
That you'd allow somebody to walk all over you
Would you really chase something that isn't real
To experience a shadow of the thing you desire
Why would you pursue something that will hurt you
That attractive lie that could scar your heart
By entering the race you're setting yourself up to lose
The victory sensation is just a fleeting feeling
If you decide to race anyway you'll regret it eventually
After all the trophy will just run away with another racer
But while you sit there crying you'll know you wanted this
And the tears will taste even more bitter because of it
A silver tongue and kind words shouldn't be enough to fool you
But then again if you want to ignore the signs you will
Its really quite sad that you'd consider a person like that
Your hungry heart deserves much better then that plastic trash
I suppose when you're used to the taste of garbage it seems normal
When you're used to be hurt you expect to be hurt sooner or later