poetry

Fast Love

She’s stuck in short lived moments.

She’s stuck in “fast love”.

The new undiscovered sparkle catches her eye,

And she’ll get it, no matter if she has to act, threat, or lie.

And after just a momentary glimpse of her, he will fall for her.

He will love her, 

Do anything for her.

But this joyous moment is always short lived.

This new sparkle won’t stay polished and fresh forever.

It will become dull and loose its appeal.

And as soon as this happens. her heart will shut down and seal.

She will get rid of him in the most of horrendous ways,

And rip his hearts from hers in only a matter of days.

And whilst they always cry,

She has spotted the next, beautiful sparkle on the horizon.

Too bad that he doesn’t yet know,

What he will end up having to undergo,

And that he will only be her next “short love”. 

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poetry

I should be Scared

Shouldn’t I be scared?

For that I am the only person, who never cared?

The only person who’s been in love but never cried over losing it.

The only person who didn’t even blink when she lost her “perfect fit.”

The only person who suddenly felt an appeal,

Of seeing him lose everything that he thought would last, and was real.

The only person who loved to love him,

But also the only person who loved to torcher him.

Shouldn’t I be worried? I feel like I should…

Shouldn’t I be worried? I swear, I would if I could! 

Where are my feelings anyways?

Locked away in an underwater cave.

Locked away from what my tears crave.

But I never found them again.

They were always gone for my lust in men.

The only emotion I know is lust of the new, and of others pain.

Lust of life, short lived love and fame.

Lust for the darkness in the day and light at night.

Lust for the brightest newest, most breathtaking light.

Shouldn’t I be worried?

For my feelings have been lost.

But at what cost?

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poetry

This one look

We all crave this one look.

This look makes us go crazy for days and nights.

We crave the undiscovered and new.

First we crave one thing they do, then two.

And we are hooked.

Hooked to how they talk,

Hooked to how they walk.

Hypnotized by their eyes,

And we think in them, our future lies.

And escaping this hook is highly challenging,

You never escape without a few cuts and bruises.

And inside the wounds keep leaking,

With every word we keep speaking.

With every tear we keep crying,

And with every lie we are lying.

We have escaped this hook,

But every now and then, we still recall this one look.

That look that used to make us go crazy for days and nights.

And it will always haunt us,

Till dawn breaks in and slowly dims our lights.

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poetry

Social Media 

I’m obsessed with social media, I won’t lie.Everyone gets to express themselves weather being risky, normal or shy.

But what is it all at the end of the day? 

Other than what other people portray about their lives and lies they say? 

What it comes down to,

Is that it’s a system designed to distract you.

Hours and hours we sit in front of social networking and video sites,

Hours we waste showing others every detail of our lives.

How many hours and days and weeks and months,

Have we wasted tipping our finger onto screens ?

We crave likes, like it would acctually portray anything meaningful.

We get compliments on a picture, but is it really about you? 

That person who liked your picture, does she ever talk to you in real life? Does she even care?

Does she care more if she presses “share”?

I find it sad for people are wasting their time,

Trying to portray their boring lives as a shiny dime.

They take 500 different pictures to chose the best to share,

But in the end, does anyone care?

I won’t lie, 

It is tempting to check your social media by every blink of your eye.

But we have to be careful by all the time it wastes,

And be careful to not get too intruguided by the likes taste.

Because in the end, 

All it comes down to,

Is a big, dirty, lie.

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poetry

Again

It happened again.

Again, the story of her and men.

The newest prey, poor him, he doesn’t yet know,

That her smiles, kisses and more, were all just a show.

He is purely an object serving for her short lived high,

That momentarily makes her heart fly.

And Even though he thought she’d always stay,

She will quickly fade away.

Is it the game of cat and mouse that exites her?

Or is it just the pain in their eyes,

That she loves to watch whilst her newest prey cries?

Maybe she just loves to play with his mental anatomy,

To see how it can slowly be molded by catastrophe?

And that’s when she began to question her sanity.

Is this really her? Or who she’s portraying herself to be?

Is she really the sweet girl next door,

Who was “nice” and nothing more?

How could she go about her life breaking hearts,

Thinking nothing, whilst she watered loves sparks?

Her emotional detachment had always surprised people closest to her,

As they left her life, and she didn’t care.

She hated this part of herself, never talked about it,

MAs she tried to keep the little candle in her heart lit.

And she remains the same,

Searching for someone else, who would finally give her some pain.

Someone she’d love and never want to let go,

Someone who shed not use for a show.

Someone who’d break her heart to make her feel,

And soften her heart of steel.

And she’s still searching,

For this one guy,

Whose love would not be another lie.

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poetry

Can’t forget

Yes I’m smiling.

Yes I’m happy,… Now.

But sometimes, when left alone with my thoughts,

Reality comes splashing in.

Before I go to bed,

I feel hands around my neck,

All of me is dripping in blood and pain,

I’m screaming underneath pillows,

And I feel knifes silently carve into my flesh.

People sometimes ask me,

What it is that makes them see sadness in my eyes.

“Oh don’t be silly, there’s nothing”

Or is there? 

Maybe it’s just me trying to keep this to myself,

Maybe it’s just me trying to hide my past in the darkest corner of life’s book shelf.

Maybe all you need to give me, 

Is a hug and understanding.

Not constantly begging for the truth,

Cause it will never see the light of the day, I can tell you this now.

It will never reach anyone’s ears.

Only mine, every now and then.

And those are the times you see sadness in my smile,

Those are the “smiles” you only get to see once in a while.

Those smiles are full of pain from sleepless nights.

Nightmares are haunting my memory. 

Real nightmares that I’m trying to forget.

If only it were that easy to forget.

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