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jugendliche.i.) die Bekennende
Du bist meine Liebe, meine Engel in der Nacht.
Die Sonne scheint so hell fuer uns, du kuesst mich und sagt,
"Kannst du bitte halt mein Hand?"
Ich kuesse dich, weil ich weiss ich kann.
Ich hoffe, du weisst, du bist wirklich schoen.
Alles, ich kann sagen ist "ich brauche dich so gern."
Meine Liebe fuer dich ist sehr gross, ich bitte zu sein.
Immer Ihren Liebling, damit du mein sein.
ii.) die Sehnsucht
Sie ist so viel staerker als ich.
Sie leuchtet den Raum und ich fuehle mich
Als wuerde ich tiefer fallen in der Liebe.
Ich denke, das sind Liebhaber oder Taschendiebe?
Aber sie ist so anders, so perfekt und Art ist.
Es scheint, sie fühlt sich nicht Zwist.
Ich will nur ihre Hand zu Halten,
Aber das ist nicht etwas, was ich ganz einfach verwalten.
Sie hat eine andere, obwohl sie liebt mich mehr
Und ich weiss, ich liebe sie ebensosehr.
A Little Bit Like Crazy: Chapter 4.1chapter four
“is astrid your girlfriend?” keillan asked me unexpectedly at our breakfast. i nearly choked on my chocolate milk.
“what the heck, kiddo?” i tried to laugh but it just came out really uncomfortable sounding. “of course she isn’t.”
“well, was she?” his insight never ceased to amaze me. his eyes were large and intent, as if he’d thought about this for a long time.
“what even would make you think that, keillan?” i appeared composed. it was still way too soon for me to answer questions about astrid. “you’ve known me your whole life. that’s the most peculiar thing to ever come out of your mouth.” i was avoiding eye contact. keillan’s got this way of making you feel totally at ease with even the most uncomfortable of topics. i guess it’s a good trait to have.
“okay, you guys are always talking about
A Little Bit Like Crazy: Chapter 3.1Chapter Three
The only person that was at home when I arrived back was my sister Brinley, a spoiled fifteen-year-old with a penchant for making my life miserable. She was lying on the sofa Daisy Buchanan-style, sprawled lazily reading a fashion magazine.
“You’re home late,” she grumbled, not even having the decency to lift her eyes from the gossip column. “How was your drunken rave last night?” Her words were dripping with sarcasm, a smirk on her lips. She genuinely repulsed me.
“You didn’t,” I spat gruffly in her direction, wide-eyes full of anger. “You did not see anything.” I was terrified, not that she had seen, but that she had shown our parents.
“Au contraire, my dear sister,” she chuckled nonchalantly. “I especially liked the one of you smashing a beer bottle into Mrs. McCartney’s heirloom china vase.”
“Brin, you wouldn’t dare,
fresh.don't look at me.
every time you do i see her.
you look just like her, but
shorter thinner sweeter
younger. you are so much younger.
you're nowhere near as naive.
innocent is not in your expansive
vocabulary. your voice is both
agonizing and intoxicating.
we used to lie next to each
other, hold hands and harmonize.
you held me when i cried
and laughed at my cheesy jokes.
now you have gone. you don't
even speak to me, no choral context.
but you look at me. and you smile.
and you make me feel so fresh,
don't ever leave my side.
a memoir of a butterfly.her memory is like a dead mockingbird.
something so beautiful, but remnants
scatter in the wind, unable to
comprehend whether it was deserved
perishing or a mistake.
will you remember in twenty
years, or twenty months, twenty
goddamn seconds, or will she
fade like the fluttering feathers
of the bird shot down in anguish?
can you kiss yourself goodnight
because her butterflies will never
again land on your fleshy lips?
laugh to keep from crying, cry
to keep for being numb,
pretending her presence was
that of a ghost inside a dream.
cover your wrists in gauze and
guilt to prevent moral infection,
feign disinterest when she bites
her lips, don't crave to be the
one biting back, because you'll
only be chewing yourself out.
don't look directly at her, she
is a sapphic eclipse, tease
me with your sloping neck,
tease me with your impeccable
jawline, hazel eyes and
crooked nose, a sweet breathiness
achieved by her trembling,
raspy alto, how i want to
press my mouth to hers and utter
the cure for romantic epilepsy is you.lighthearted heartthrobs
leave me tenderhearted for
the moment, callously discarded
when the brokenhearted relapses
occur and my heartache is just
a simple subtraction amongst
the breakage and blood pumping.
can you heal me? can you heal you?
do you know how to divide me
into the good, the bad, and the
parts that get too clingy?
can you tell me what it is
that keeps you clinging?
your body is like a metronome,
and i just want to move
to your tempo, you envelope
me with your beautiful
lyricism and lips like a rose.
hands hold like roping soliloquies
of the what-ifs and what-nows,
they're clenching like we're
on a roller coaster and i just
want to hold on to you, if
i could kiss you would i be
considered lucky or a casualty?
i want to peruse the inky pages
of your loitered soul, picking
up the pieces because something
as beautiful as you doesn't
deserve to be littered.
all i want you to do is stand
near me, not even next to me,
because the glow of your glower
is gorgeous even in your mos
drowned.this ice is getting thinner
and i keep feeling like i'm
about to fall through. i just
wanted you to envelope me in
your harmony, sweet kisses
making the syncopation
between broken glass and
heart pieces, shattered
with lips uttering breathlessly.
i wanted to be warmed by
the sound of your melodies,
you told me of my beauties
and i believed you, remember
that my soul is fragile and
that suicide and silence
start and end the same way.
keep in mind when you told
me how much you cared and
how much i hope you realized
at this point the water is
freezing and i can't swim.
love like remission.everybody says that
i'm a specific type. i
think that's just an
excuse to say there's
really no chance i can
ever be loved. keep saying
that i'm beautiful, keep
saying that i'm good.
do you really think i
believe any of that? i'm
trying to turn a new
page, cleanse the wounds
she caused me, and now
i don't know which way
to turn because neither
path is paved for me and
neither door is open. i
wish i could say it was
easy but i can feel it
coming back, steadily like
a creeping animal ready
to pounce on my freshly-
healed heart and soul.
everyone says i have a type.
i believe that in a
heartbeat because each
heart that beats next to
mine is sweet in the melody.
i don't have my choice of
the picking but i can
pretend to be free of this
illness, relapsing on
romanticism and using stoicism
as a crutch, this wall i
put up can be broken down
by whoever's love is strong
enough. someone, take my hand
and lead me through the disease.
Lost without your LoveThe rain is tapping lightly
outside on the tender leaves.
I look through the windonw
on this cool summer night
caressed by a gently breeze.
I am missing you deeply inside
staring blankly, into space;
curtains blowing softly
against my skin
tears of love, run down my face...
Staring, for the longest while
never realizing the passing time.
Trying to find the pieces
to make it right
the words, to make it rhyme...
For how can I ever tell him
let the deepest part of me show?
That I'm lost without his love...
How will he ever know?
Compassion Of The Heart...Come over here and talk to me,
I told my little boy.
"Oh mom I'm mad, my brand new friend,
stole my only toy!"
"My dear sweet son, it pains me so,
to see you so upset, but there's one thing
you ought to know, one thing you won't forget."
"Please mother tell me, what it is
this thing I ought to mind? Can I buy it, is it new
or maybe does it wind?"
Ah my son it's nothing new, it's been around awhile
It's something that I always knew, that won't go out of style!
Son, it's nothing stores can sell, or put upon a shelf,
it's not a truck or Lego set, or some poor garden elf.
Son there's some that don't have much,
your friend and many more...but we will find another toy,
in another store!
It's sad of course your toy is gone, theft is never right...
but think of how your friend might feel, without a toy in sight.
Of course he may have borrowed it, cause friends they often do
I mean to say what is a friend? What does that mean to you
Holding onto YouLooking out through the window,
my thoughts, only I know...
Since the day I left you
it's been raining, constatly
for days in a row.
As I sit here watching
I quietly ask myself 'when'
will I begin to smile?
Will the sun start to shine again?
For love with you was beautiful
so beautiful....at one time.
You had a way with words
a way, of making them rhyme.
On and on, endlessly
your sweet voice filled the air;
making me feel the love you claimed
- though, it was never there.
Now here I sit remembering
sweet memories, of then...
Hating myself for loving you
and wanting you back again.
You WereYou were a moment of truth and beauty,
that once had touched my life.
You loved me, you really did;
now, I am paying the price.
Paying the price for ignoring the fact
you were so deeply involved;
as I selfishly left you alone with a problem
I knew only I could solve...
Now all that's left to my life is 'hope'
hoping and wondering,... if, and when?
Will those precious moments of truth and beauty
ever touch my life again.
Angel of SuicideAngel of darkness
angel of death.
I wear you tight to my knuckle
hold you close to my chest.
Black is your color
with a face I can't see.
I wait for your touch
to transform me...
Me into 'you'.
To die is to live.
Freedom in ebony
My song is a scream
my bed is a grave.
I sought peace and rest
but became I
...Now I can't go back
and my deepest of fears
flow quick from my eyes
transparent black tears.
'Hell', she runs deep...
Endless others like me
have sought an escape...
ReflectionsLike silent raindrops falling
reflections, shown in tears.
The agonies and sorrows;
a picture painted clear.
Each one tells a story
in, such a way
compassionately, as to make you feel
what words could never say.
Watch them slowly falling.
Listen, with your eyes;
to the pictures, painted before you.
See them come alive.
So very colorfully dancing;
in full detail
one, by one...
On and on,
you can't escape.
The story is never done.
Breathe Love Like AirBreath love like air, and live
Return from the darkness
Embrace all life as kin
And let peace touch your heart
The saccharine kiss of
Hope can make bitterness
Evolve on cynics' tongues
Leaving an aftertaste
Vanquished are the moments
Engulfed in innocence
Life does not let you live
In perfect happiness
Kisses of destiny
Either raze or nourish
A man's deepest beliefs
In pure honesty, I-
Repeat, breath love like air
When honesty EntersYou rubbed the dust from my wings
so I can not love you 'freely'.
Your ways are oppressive
of anger, and control;
'free', love has to be.
The death of an angel...
A broken rag doll.
I feel, I've fallen from grace.
For with hatred you have looked me
deep in the eyes,
while the hands I loved
slapped my face.
My fear, hides in the dark.
But against my will - 'honesty'
lights up the room
my broken heart.
I realize I've got to fly;
away with my feelings
to a bright place;
where love goes
I Find It Funny That You Can't Look Straight At MeOne step away from
The pain and hurt you caused me,
But I still miss you.
When I'm with others,
I have to divert my eyes
Away from your gaze.
I can't help myself.
You just left me on my last
It doesn't help me
That every time I see you,
I shut up and sigh.
Why don't you be a
Man about it all and tell
Me why you did it?
You led me on, love.
You left me hung out to dry.
You're a coward.
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