to a boy
i would make you chocolate covered strawberries on a dreary sunday, and if you didn’t like chocolate i’d go find vanilla. i would wake up at 7 a.m. and come to your house and make you breakfast in bed whenever you wanted. i would kiss your cheek and your nose and your forehead and then finally your lips, because i would appreciate all of you.
i would hold your hand in a special way so you’d know that i love you, and i would tickle your arm and play with your fingers as we sat on a bench in a park somewhere. i would cuddle with you and stroke your face and look you in the eyes and maybe even hum you a soft little song.
i would love you more and longer and sweeter than any other girl would-i’d feel your kisses down to the very bottom of my core and i hope you’d feel the same thing.
The girl with the devilish plan.
She’s got a pretty face
Pretty eyes, a pretty mouth
But from her heart
What pours out?
Is it love she shows?
Is it My Truth or just lies?
For, you see, the enemy
Is the master of disguise.
A wolf in sheep’s clothing?
That’s old news.
Lucifer steals the pretty girls
And makes them his muse.
Oh, he’ll dress his puppet up
In a well-painted glaze
Put her in a dress
And send her your way.
You’ll stop and stare
Maybe ask for directions
But before you spoke
She knew she had your attention.
She’s got blood on her hands,
And that’s not Revlon Cherry Red
On those lips with which
She turned your head.
Behind her bright brown eyes
She holds a dark secret
You’ll never find out
Because she intends to keep it.
You’ve got the faith
And she’s got the time
And all the Devil wants
Is for you to say, “You’re mine.”
Two words spoken
To the girl with blood stained lips
And you’ve lost your way at a sea
With no hope of a rescue ship.
You’ll wine her and dine her
Slowly forgetting
What I asked of you
In the beginning.
That was Lucifer’s plan
all along, you see.
Because while you’re with her,
You’re forgetting Me.
- Amanda H.
To a boy.
Dear Boy,
I hate to burden you with this news, but this is the only way I may find release. It’s because of you I want to cry myself to sleep. It’s you that makes me want to forget every boy on this planet. But it’s also you, who doesn’t care a bit about me of the fact that I am plagued by you every night before I dream. Only to invade my dreams as well. Why can’t I forget you and move on? Why must I refuse every set-up my best friend suggests? It’s because of you. You’re the reason I want to spend the rest of my life alone and wary; maybe I won’t get hurt then.
I hope you open your eyes someday to what stand in front of you. It sickens me thinking that I have to be the one making this a platonic relationship.
And now, to those who read this: love sucks. And being in live with someone who sees right past you sucks even more. But I am determined to overcome it. Even if it means another night of tear soaked pillows.
Sincerely,
A girl who can’t et over the boy.
Yet.
It's been one year
as of today that we ended it the second time. You completly dropped me on my ass, for the second time. Which is obviously two times too many, if I wasn’t a priority I should have gotten out way sooner. I gave you the benefit of the doubt that you were just really busy and it wasn’t that you didn’t give a fuck. But no. Turns out you just didn’t give a fuck. And I didn’t need you to stay in my life as my boyfriend or my hook up buddy. I just needed you to stay and be my friend. Check up on me, ask how I am. Be there for me to talk to you. Because my life had just fallen apart twice in the span on two months. And you couldn’t even be a good friend to me. “I don’t want to talk about it. It makes me sad.” It makes you sad?! Imagine it actually happening to you, then not being able to talk about it with the boy you are in love with, and then having the same boy fucking drop you like yesterdays paper. I can’t stand you anymore because of that.
So I’m glad we’re done. Because I deserve better. You were a horrible friend, I’m so glad we never officially dated.
write things, and don't send them, but do post them on the internet.
“Am I too much for you? Am I too sudden, too new, too bright and foreign and therefore frightening? Is it my laugh? I’m not laughing at you, it’s with you, I promise. Well, mostly. Is it my big words? They’re like triangles trying to fit into a circular mouth. Is it because when I look at you, I see more of you than you’d quite like?”
Hey, you.
You probably won’t see this—strike that, definitely won’t see this. You will never read what I have to say. But that doesn’t change the fact that I have to say it anyway.
I refuse to apologize for saying how I feel. I know it might have put you in an awkward position, and I am sorry if I made you feel awkward. But I won’t apologize for telling you I liked you. I’m a little bit of a mess. I don’t have much to be proud of. But I am proud of myself for that. I am damn proud that I went after what I wanted, even if I thought it would never happen, thought I could never deserve someone as amazing as you. It took more guts than you could ever imagine. I’m not the type of girl who does that.
The other thing I want to say is this: thank you.
Honestly? What you said, I didn’t hear it because I was already running after I finished talking. I heard about it later. And let me just tell you—I didn’t choose to like you. If I could, I would choose not to like anyone so I would never have to go through something as intensely terrifying and annoying as becoming infatuated with you.
But thank you, for not being cruel. Thank you for not laughing in my face. Thank you for not trying to go into a relationship just because it would be easier, or just saying no with no reason. It hurts a little…but I’ll get over it. I always do. And I respect you, for knowing that you’re not in a position to be in a relationship right now.
Sincerely,
A slightly heartbroken but mostly okay girl
(Oh, and one more thing:
If you really do like me, I’m willing to wait. If you do like me back, then I’ll wait until you’re ready—actually, until we’re both ready—to be in a relationship.)
Grow or Dare
I can only laugh at how skewed your understanding is.
To know someone’s soul, is to see the ultimate ugliness it can produce…
To truly find love, that is a mutual connection… goes beyond acceptance.
Holding onto memories of putrid accounts containing fragments of lust,
Expelling all truths of humanity and realizing the faultiness of the connection…
Putting aside vain reasoning that brought you to that person…
Because they “fit” some ideal mold you had in mind.
IT should be growing and evolving…
Not holding onto a memory that lacks surface.
A memory that someone else drags across decomposed dignity.
What are you holding onto? REALLY?
If you think it was so special…
Test the waters… Discover the truth.
Mi Amore
You have hair that curls and curls as the air gets saltier.
Whenever your in the ocean your eyes become lit with a brighter green.
Your grin always looks fit to bust encased in beautiful lips.
Your toned but slimmer and that’s okay.
You like to wrap your arms around my rib cage and hate to see me cry.
This is why I love you
