shelbysingleton

A constant flow of poetic sentences fill my mind at increasing speeds i cannot control make me wonder, why am I still here. Is is to read, write, love and express or be forced into uncomfortable situations with my guidance councillor to tell them I'm ok. But I am not ok. give me cancer, make me blind so I cannot see the appearances of others but merely feel their soul, they tell me high school is pathetic but adulthood seems just as painful, maybe the reason my dad is always angry is because he knows none of this is worth it, we are simply 7 billion people trying to stay strong for each other, that's it isn't it? That's why I'm still here. Fo

You are probably going to break my heart, and I am definitely going to let you. -ss

Burn me. I want to burn in hell and die in eternal ecstasy. I cant live without you, talk to me, say something, I'm drowning myself in my own frustration, you've shot down my walls in an instant and manifested yourself into my brain, in four months you've taken over my way of life and corrupted my thoughts. You are everything I want and everything I want to get the fuck away, without you I am nothing. I am a ticking time bomb waiting to explode or just deteriorate from the inside out, or the outside in, showing signs of weakness before they reach my inner self. With you I am a ball of self hatred bullying myself because I will never be good e

when you think about your future, what do you see? what you truly desire, or what your burdened mind is anticipating judged on cruel words and sly comments. do you see what you hope to be, Or what others hope for you to be. Do you see what only you can control, with your own heart and mind, your own decisions and recollections. Or do you see what other judgments made by other people have come up with in a head that you do not understand. I will become what I want myself to become, Not what you hope for me to become, I refuse to be buried in your hopes for me, I will rocket into my hopes for myself. It's hard enough trying to define who you ar

so you asked me to write you an apology poem, although im not too good with words, but i figured id give it a go because i dont want to loose you. and id rather embarrass myself with bad literature than loose someone whose always been there, whose simple smile, or cute hair flick, can make my day, or someone whose eyes look like sapphires, and looking into them is like looking into the deepest sea, or the highest sky, not knowing where it will finish, and being afraid to dive in because you dont want to get lost, and drown. and then you say 'what?' and I realize im sitting on a park bench staring at you like a retard. and i know what i did wa

Maybe she does it because she feels empty, and although that emptiness cant be filled with a one night stand, its still that temporary high of feeling loved, and feeling needed, and as he's whispering pretty things into her ear and she knows they aren't true, she still feels that sacrificing her body, her dignity, her self esteem, hearing those pretty things still makes her feel wonderful enough to come back for more. Because either way she will still go home to a family that dreads her company, a classroom full of people calling her everything in the book, a friend group who she knows doesn't want her there, and say nasty things behind her b