100 themes 58 Heartfelt Apology- LovieI'm sorry.....for everything.
For all that I've done.
You are amazing.
Never forget it.
Never let anyone take you for granted.
You are important..
More important than you know.
And you are special.
Don't let someone take that away from you.
Forget the mistakes I made...
The mistakes you made.
And the ones you will make?
Let go of them too.
That no matter what other people think...
You. Are. Great.
Don't let me.....get in the way of that.
Don't let her get in the way of that...
And lastly, please.
For the pain...
The... sleepless nights....
Forgive me for interfering..
You should have been healing...
And I just...let you...
Well you know.
Don't let that happen.
Heal first. Then love.
Promise me all of i
100 THEMES 1 Introduction Amusement ParkWelcome...
To my emotional roller coaster ride.
Sometimes happy, sometimes sad.
Please keep your hands, at all times, inside.
On your left you'll see lonely days
On your right you'll find betrayal
And to your front you'll encounter my depressive ways.
To the Black Parade
Where broken glass is scattered
And broken hearts are concave
You've reached the Tunnel of Love
Also called The Boat Ride of Hate
Where you can float down the river in a mourning dove.
You'll soon want to leave
Like most others do,
And when you go you'll feel relieved.
Until you go, though,
You're all mine.
To my Emotional Roller Coaster ride.
100 THEMES 20 My Inspiration- Fire EscapeWriting has escaped the fire in my soul.
Every word a gentle glimpse into me.
My own heart.
My very being...
These last words...do they mean anything?
Can I catch them...like summertime butterflies?
Are they gone, like echoes in an open space, the second I write them...?
But no....I no longer write for me, but for you.
no joy. no sorrow. no apathy. can make these words mean anything.
pinch me...abuse me...make me feel something...for right now all I feel is emptiness
...Pain is better than nothing..........
Please....help me feel...something.
Weak I can't force myself to write these days.
I'm so tired. So weak.
I barely get out of bed these days...
Some sort of closure my body seeks.
See I start writing something close to that up there
And I hate it....what am I even trying to say anymore?
I can't confuse what I want to say with what I want you to know...
I've been doing that a lot lately.
It may seem I'm just talking now, but I'm speaking from the heart..
Let me go because instead of being your Juliet, dear Romeo,
I've become your poison. That sweet dagger.
With the last energy I have I'm trying to save you.
I'm proud of you for saying in one night you will.
But you won't. We both know you're lying to yourself...and to me.
And I don't appreciate that girl....saying she's helping....I don't think she's helping at all.
Sticking her nose where it doesn't belong. She doesn't understand anything about us.
(You can tell her I said that too if you like)
When it comes to you and me... there's nobody who can save us.
No one pers
Story of Her Life The pain behind her eyes is a dark result of unjust.
The tears she dries outside those eyes...result from tries at trust.
Her soft pink lips of truths and honesty, lie with every 'I'm okay'...
Her rosy cheeks she hides and covers... gain red in times she feels betrayed.
The rhymes she spits come from the bottom of her always broken heart.
With each word she hears a thunderous crack, as she falls even more apart.
At times her sore brain wonders if her body can take much more of this.
At times she wonders if she died yesterday...today would she be missed?
But when times got tough this time around...you came into her life
The hope you showed her...gave her, shone brightly in her life's night.
She saw the sunrise within your kiss, saw goals, and dreams, and slowing tides,
She saw a new life, an undying hope, she saw....with you...she could survive.
What to write about... So what do I write about then, I often wonder.
A tale of hate? Of heartbreak? Life's mistakes?
How do writers escape their own thoughts I ponder...
How do they hide from the tales they create?
It's as if they come to life when they're down on paper.
And no one is assigned to be a writer's saviour.
With dungeons and princesses lurking about
A young lad to prove to her that he's mighty and stout.
In my mind and yours they all come true
These stories we write, become a reality.
In day dreams and visions, feelings exhumed.
You know they're quite dangerous, these ideas; lethalities.
But shhhhh I won't tell I know they're real.
You can't make me speak, my pen is sealed.
But careful when you dream and it feels wonderfully realistic.
Because in reality, they can be quite narcissistic.