A field of red, it�s always been your favorite. Eyes stapled shut and lips sewed back, showing your rotting grin. Your look is nauseating. The only time you don�t smile is when I force you underwater. But you�ve always looked so good. Obsessed with fire, it�s the only way to douse your disgust. I hide you where there is no oxygen. Your look is nauseating. A field of red, it�s always been your favorite. Locked and loaded. Don�t pretend you don�t know. You�re drowning by my hand. I love the way you struggle, just like your field of red. Is this your favorite? Try and breathe.
Opposites of attraction and non-exsistant lovers:
I eat sleep and breathe the things you do. But this silence is making my scars scream. My eyes bloodshot and red scan the room for a comfort. Only she is there, scarring her back with out a tear, and she stretches out her wings soaked with blood a gasoline. A fetish for flame she burns down the trust that keeps us together. Gun shot gun shot gun shot echoes throughout each and every one of the memories. And your screams echo even louder, even this hollow point can�t drown them out. A dyslexic needle seems your only escape. This injection is my proof of my forgiveness.
BAM! Embarassing!
Generic, senseless imagery. Blood and gasoline soaked wings? What?
A dyslexic needle seems your only escape. This injection is my proof of my forgiveness.
Do you even know what dyslexia is? Are you trying to say that the needle can’t read the path properly so you end up jacking up like a moron? No, I’m really not getting this. It’s like you’ve used random words to be edgy.
This is a new way to be bad, though, so I give you props for being special. Then again, that’s what they call retards.
There’s no kind of flow at all. It’s like reading some angsty twerp’s journal. It looks like you plucked random words from the dictionary in a vain attempt to make it look somewhat credible, but it has all the artistry of shit thrown at a wall. If it has a single redeeming quality, it is that it is only polluting cyberspace and not actually contaminating the real world in the form of words on paper, as far as I know (or care) at least.
Never write again unless it’s a suicide note, and then make sure I never have to read it.
eek, attack of the self-righteous emo-poet.
^^^ burn! 🙁 *cuts self*
Instead of spending so much time bringing about its ruination, why don’t you just go write a new one and preferably something amusing or something that matters to you. NOT LOVE. PLEASE. 13 year olds writing love poems gives me a mental breakdown. You do know that you can write poems about anything in your room? You should try it out, you may like it.
I’ve only used it twice
It’s a pointless thing in my life
Which makes it like my wife
Wow, you were right!
From Afar
I see you walking down the hall
And get that feeling deep inside.
Your eyes glance up to meet my own
And I know I cannot hide.
My heart stops and I can’t move
And I know it’s because of you.
My mind races and I start to think
Of all that we’ve been through.
As we stare from across the hall,
It feels like time stands still
I want to run up and hold you
But I know I never will.
I’m the one to break away
From this deep and longing gaze
And I can’t help but notice that
My mind is in a haze.
The mood is broken now
And time is back up to par.
All this happened as
I watched you from afar.
As was your attempt to write like an intelligent human being.
10 at best.
you guys suck. i’m 16.
Ha! Majors? Hardly! I like your stuff even though it is a bit emo. I respect all styles of writing, as long as its good.
I’ll make fuck!n bumcheeks rattle……..
!!!!! FREEEEESTYLE !!!!!!
or don’t you do that kinda stuff………
You did ask for it
sorry, but you’re obviously doing the same