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Literature Text
So strange to be alone,
I don’t know how to do this.
I’ve been alone before,
But that wasn’t really life.
When do I stop hurting?
Can’t seem to forget his face.
The love of my life…
now sees me as a monster.
Is all heartbreak alike?
I can feel my strength going.
But is it from the starvation...
...or the longing to have him?
Things change when life comes along,
I can’t open my heart up now.
But perhaps it’s better like that
for I can’t stand to lose love again.
I don’t know how to do this.
I’ve been alone before,
But that wasn’t really life.
When do I stop hurting?
Can’t seem to forget his face.
The love of my life…
now sees me as a monster.
Is all heartbreak alike?
I can feel my strength going.
But is it from the starvation...
...or the longing to have him?
Things change when life comes along,
I can’t open my heart up now.
But perhaps it’s better like that
for I can’t stand to lose love again.
Literature
It's Not Love
When was love supposed to make you cry?
I look to the heavens and ask them why.
But they don't whisper a single phrase
And I'm left wandering in a daze.
I thought it was love, but it couldn't be
Because there is just too much hurt inside of me.
When was love supposed to hurt so much?
Wasn't it all about yearning for their touch?
Instead I fear of what you might say
I think about the possibilities every day.
I just get this feeling that it will come crashing to an end
It's a feeling that seems to grow stronger when I see you again.
Is it just me or is the distance growing between us
Getting larger without the safety of our trust?
Literature
Depressed
I sit here alone listening to the rain,
trying to believe the words everyone says.
"youre Pretty" "I love you" are phrases I often hear,
but who really means it?
and who is sincere?
I doubt you would even tell me the truth,
so youll tell me what will make me feel better,
but if it isnt the truth,
then why should I care?
Eventually in the end,
Ill probably get hurt,
That always seems to happen,
I get treated like dirt.
So next time you want to tell me you care,
Make sure you mean it,
And that its sincere.
Literature
Depression
I'm tired of being here,
all locked up in my head.
Every day I hear a whisper,
and I'm closer to being dead.
Something taps me on the shoulder,
something I can't fight.
When it talks in that low voice,
my eyes are shut so tight.
Once it gets to a cetain point,
and I'm still sitting on the ground,
it tells me to do things,
I'm trying to ignore the sound.
Its voice is harsh and filled with confidence,
and I can hear a hint of sorrow.
Even when it's telling me,
I won't live to see tomorrow.
I don't know what to say,
and I don't know what to do.
I'm still hearing it now,
and I'm still suffering too.
I can't tell what its weak
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its just a poem about how i feel right now.....my heart just seems crushed and wont be repair.....
© 2007 - 2024 foxxy-girl
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im sorry