Haha I remember that- Good times suffles...good times
Don't mind me, i'm very bored and looking through all your old quotes- they are very cringe worthy I must say
but then again so are the ones I used to post on Iamawittystick
this is really good suffles, it's very well written and i'm not sure whether you meant to, but the swirly format could represent your empty mind or maybe i'm looking into it too much- nevermind but well done on the nice poem.
:(
This is what it says, if you wanted to know:
other poets write about unrequited love, and slit-worthy wrists stained and cherry lips that leave blossoms on each cheek they brush.
other poets write about missing the person who makes you feel like youre on fire, and each touch just ignites you further.
other poets write about hurt so deep the oceans wave in jealousy; hurt caused by men that smoke death sticks and always leave their ashes by the bedside.
other poets write how waking up to an empty house with only peaches as apology notes ring like high pitched screams in caves or maybe just car alarms.
other poets write about the clandestine loves with firework-cracker girls tracing entire witty novels on kitchen countertops using only their matchstick fingertips.
i write about how peaches rot so quickly; how missing someone who doesnt exist is the worst form of loneliness; how i have no voices in my mind but have a lifetime of undone experiences to unravel and no words to cut you with.
i write about unstable introverts, who believe 2am is no different to any other go.ddam.n hour of the day. i write poems in the form of compulsive liars, because truth is, im not a poet all all.
Don't mind me, i'm very bored and looking through all your old quotes- they are very cringe worthy I must say
but then again so are the ones I used to post on Iamawittystick
this is just
wow
you're very talented, keep up the good work!
This is what it says, if you wanted to know:
other poets write about unrequited love, and slit-worthy wrists stained and cherry lips that leave blossoms on each cheek they brush.
other poets write about missing the person who makes you feel like youre on fire, and each touch just ignites you further.
other poets write about hurt so deep the oceans wave in jealousy; hurt caused by men that smoke death sticks and always leave their ashes by the bedside.
other poets write how waking up to an empty house with only peaches as apology notes ring like high pitched screams in caves or maybe just car alarms.
other poets write about the clandestine loves with firework-cracker girls tracing entire witty novels on kitchen countertops using only their matchstick fingertips.
i write about how peaches rot so quickly; how missing someone who doesnt exist is the worst form of loneliness; how i have no voices in my mind but have a lifetime of undone experiences to unravel and no words to cut you with.
i write about unstable introverts, who believe 2am is no different to any other go.ddam.n hour of the day. i write poems in the form of compulsive liars, because truth is, im not a poet all all.
(SH)
:)
i dont know how this links to your quote but the "get over it" part just reminded me of it