Author's Note: So this is my most recent poem, both that I've written and that I like. XD Yaay. =)) This ends this batch of poems I'm copying from Deviantart to here. :D
///
We won't always be perfect
we're both too stubborn for that.
And we'll say stupid things,
and it will always be complicated.
But if this were simple,
I would been bored long before
all the problems happened.
You're insane, and unpredictable.
Insecure and full of pride.
Impulsive and far too rational.
And you're a crazy contradiction.
But I wouldn't have you
any other way.
And it's not just your hair,
and how it feels in my fingers.
Or your joking, childish way
of throwing tantrums.
It's not enough to say
that you're a mystery:
a complex mess of emotions,
of questions and [brilliance]
It isn't about the way
I'm addicted to your smell
or your [you-brand] of energy
and well-thought logic.
Your stubborn principles
and messed-up ways.
It's not just that angry, intense face
while playing all your killing games
or that proud, hidden smirk
while having all your mind games.
It was more about that smile
which you couldn't help but give
whenever we talked
about the next 20 years
of pillow forts and cookie jars
and hunting down the ones
who'd try to take the kids.
It wasn't just your complexity,
that had me thinking
for nights on end
just who you really were.
Or the late-night talks
about life and love and [all]
the world was around us.
It was more about the laughs,
about the ridiculous things
that happened everyday.
The simplest things
that made me forget
about everything else.
Just for a few hours.
And it wasn't just your snarky lines
that made fun of [everyone's] stupidity.
or your frequent, cheesy nonsense.
It was more than what anyone could see
about you, beyond me.
Because it was never just about
your pride, and indifference
and your [theoretical] niceness.
(But they were always
part of it, too.)
It was always about that way
you had of saying the right things,
when you tried the least.
And your sincerity
and genuine give-a-shit.
About people who didn't.
Because in a world of people
who live on just
that pride
or complexity
or brilliance
and a world full of people,
all with theoretical [niceness]:
You were always something more.
April 17, 2011
Fool
So you're waiting for a hero?
To come and sweep you off
your unsteady feet
and weak knees.
While you cry on your side,
holding the chipping
gold tiara
and the birds by your window
will ask you what's wrong.
You say you can't find
your emerald shoes
and your lips are cracked
from all your biting.
And the thorns outside
are starting to break in.
And the butterflies
are mocking you
for even they've found
their freedom to fly.
And the mirror shards
on the floor
stare back at you
to show you all your lies.
The world you claim
has to no time to
save princesses anymore.
The world's changed.
But the clock is ticking
and chiming,
and laughing.
Because the world
has always stayed the same.
The crown is black under
the cheap paint, it seems.
And your fits at night
is showing in your knees.
The birds look back,
and blink in surprise
Your problems they say,
seem foolish
in their eyes.
Because maybe if you had used
the years trying
to escape the world
of false luxury
you created,
you'd have known
the life outside
that waited.
And heroes are harder
to wait for
when they don't know
who they're saving.
But you'll tell yourself.
Only because
they're not looking.
So you're lost,
waiting for nothing.
But you'll stay,
living for this dream.
Live on paint and rust,
because your silk dress is ripping.
and you'll cry for nothing,
until all your tears are gone.
To come and sweep you off
your unsteady feet
and weak knees.
While you cry on your side,
holding the chipping
gold tiara
and the birds by your window
will ask you what's wrong.
You say you can't find
your emerald shoes
and your lips are cracked
from all your biting.
And the thorns outside
are starting to break in.
And the butterflies
are mocking you
for even they've found
their freedom to fly.
And the mirror shards
on the floor
stare back at you
to show you all your lies.
The world you claim
has to no time to
save princesses anymore.
The world's changed.
But the clock is ticking
and chiming,
and laughing.
Because the world
has always stayed the same.
The crown is black under
the cheap paint, it seems.
And your fits at night
is showing in your knees.
The birds look back,
and blink in surprise
Your problems they say,
seem foolish
in their eyes.
Because maybe if you had used
the years trying
to escape the world
of false luxury
you created,
you'd have known
the life outside
that waited.
And heroes are harder
to wait for
when they don't know
who they're saving.
But you'll tell yourself.
Only because
they're not looking.
So you're lost,
waiting for nothing.
But you'll stay,
living for this dream.
Live on paint and rust,
because your silk dress is ripping.
and you'll cry for nothing,
until all your tears are gone.
Disaster
We were beautiful together, once.
Two jagged pieces.
Two misfits who felt the world
was theirs for the taking.
We broke each other apart
and knew just how
the pieces fit together again.
And when the world thought
we didn't quite fit in
and when it tried to show
we were one, terrifying disaster.
We laughed at its face
and smiled
as we defied the universe.
We were two halves
of an imperfect whole.
And the edges never did
quite line up together.
And the world was right
We were one, terrifying
beautiful disaster.
And an amazing one, at that.
We were two jagged pieces.
Two misfits who took the world.
And watched it burn.
And we were beautiful together.
Once.
Two jagged pieces.
Two misfits who felt the world
was theirs for the taking.
We broke each other apart
and knew just how
the pieces fit together again.
And when the world thought
we didn't quite fit in
and when it tried to show
we were one, terrifying disaster.
We laughed at its face
and smiled
as we defied the universe.
We were two halves
of an imperfect whole.
And the edges never did
quite line up together.
And the world was right
We were one, terrifying
beautiful disaster.
And an amazing one, at that.
We were two jagged pieces.
Two misfits who took the world.
And watched it burn.
And we were beautiful together.
Once.
Remains
When I was young I was a fool,
did not stop and think
about which was real
or which was beautiful.
And you of all people,
knew how to coat things
just the right amount.
So I believed
that they were both.
As you strung my heart along,
with your eyes and your smile
and your laughter.
And I could never quite doubt,
that you were everything
you claimed to be.
So I made myself believe it.
You were the one for me.
And so you played with the remains
of the person I used to be.
While you tried to laugh it all away.
To make it all better.
But darling, you destroyed me.
[And you won't even admit it. ]
So wrap me up in the lies
and empty words.
While I try to sort them out,
to protect myself from the hurt.
But I guess it'll all cave
from under us.
And I'll just watch you try
and fail
to regain my shattered trust.
did not stop and think
about which was real
or which was beautiful.
And you of all people,
knew how to coat things
just the right amount.
So I believed
that they were both.
As you strung my heart along,
with your eyes and your smile
and your laughter.
And I could never quite doubt,
that you were everything
you claimed to be.
So I made myself believe it.
You were the one for me.
And so you played with the remains
of the person I used to be.
While you tried to laugh it all away.
To make it all better.
But darling, you destroyed me.
[And you won't even admit it. ]
So wrap me up in the lies
and empty words.
While I try to sort them out,
to protect myself from the hurt.
But I guess it'll all cave
from under us.
And I'll just watch you try
and fail
to regain my shattered trust.
More
I was nothing more than a girl
who buried her face
in the thick textbooks
of subjects she didn't care about.
All to try to please
a woman who never would
be proud of anything.
You were nothing more than a boy
who irritated me
on a daily basis.
Pestered me with words,
not very subtle insults.
And a smirk that I felt
one day I wanted to wipe off
that far too [deceivingly]
angelic face of yours.
And days dragged on and on.
And it felt you were determined.
To never leave me alone.
To annoy me until my
then-uncontrollable temper
flared out at you.
And would calm down, as always.
To simple, but glaring annoyance.
While you just shook your head.
And laughed.
And the days stretched
into weeks, and then months.
And eventually I learned
to get used to your
[unfairly] charming grin.
And you slowly made me
look up more and more
from the thin, old pages
and tiny, bunched-up ink stains.
We both know
how we both changed back then.
Slowly, daily. In small things
that later on, we realized
were big ones.
And suddenly you were more than just
an arrogant, sarcastic Australian.
And I was finally more
than that girl who got high scores
in math and science exams.
And I went through that phase
of needing you so badly
it started to destroy me.
While you,
still didn't believe in love.
And left, just as you always do.
Back to where your home was.
For only-God-knows how long.
And soon enough you were with [her]
Who brought out your rage,
with her need for perfection
and attention.
And I tried to ask
why it was her over me.
But back then you didn't care.
At least, until,
she drove your patience
to its snapping point.
And then you were more than just
everything that was bad for me.
It was as if the distance
had slowly shrunk until it was gone.
And you were my best friend.
Who knew me better than anyone else.
And you were the one whose,
surprisingly warm smile
sparked up those defiantly proud
sapphire eyes.
And I guess it was my fault
we messed up the first time.
Asked about her until you
just couldn't take it,
until you hated the way
I couldn't trust you.
[But can you honestly blame me,
when I heard the way
you talked about her back then?
She was the one with the blue eyes
and immaculate hair,
and I was just afraid
of losing you.
And I hate that I did,
for a while.]
And 6 months passed,
and I wondered if you had
any idea at all
of how much you've changed.
And all I did when I wasn't with you
was write out things
to try to explain to myself
how I fell for such an [idiot.]
(But no one else
could ever get away
with calling you that.)
And then you were so much more
than just my best friend.
You became the best damn thing
that's ever happened to me.
You brought out the rebel,
dying inside the unhappy academic.
You freed the dreamer,
the writer, the speaker,
inside this temperamental [brat.]
And the only thing, I guess.
That you couldn't do for me.
[Now that you're gone]
Was to teach this lost, little girl
how to live on without you.
who buried her face
in the thick textbooks
of subjects she didn't care about.
All to try to please
a woman who never would
be proud of anything.
You were nothing more than a boy
who irritated me
on a daily basis.
Pestered me with words,
not very subtle insults.
And a smirk that I felt
one day I wanted to wipe off
that far too [deceivingly]
angelic face of yours.
And days dragged on and on.
And it felt you were determined.
To never leave me alone.
To annoy me until my
then-uncontrollable temper
flared out at you.
And would calm down, as always.
To simple, but glaring annoyance.
While you just shook your head.
And laughed.
And the days stretched
into weeks, and then months.
And eventually I learned
to get used to your
[unfairly] charming grin.
And you slowly made me
look up more and more
from the thin, old pages
and tiny, bunched-up ink stains.
We both know
how we both changed back then.
Slowly, daily. In small things
that later on, we realized
were big ones.
And suddenly you were more than just
an arrogant, sarcastic Australian.
And I was finally more
than that girl who got high scores
in math and science exams.
And I went through that phase
of needing you so badly
it started to destroy me.
While you,
still didn't believe in love.
And left, just as you always do.
Back to where your home was.
For only-God-knows how long.
And soon enough you were with [her]
Who brought out your rage,
with her need for perfection
and attention.
And I tried to ask
why it was her over me.
But back then you didn't care.
At least, until,
she drove your patience
to its snapping point.
And then you were more than just
everything that was bad for me.
It was as if the distance
had slowly shrunk until it was gone.
And you were my best friend.
Who knew me better than anyone else.
And you were the one whose,
surprisingly warm smile
sparked up those defiantly proud
sapphire eyes.
And I guess it was my fault
we messed up the first time.
Asked about her until you
just couldn't take it,
until you hated the way
I couldn't trust you.
[But can you honestly blame me,
when I heard the way
you talked about her back then?
She was the one with the blue eyes
and immaculate hair,
and I was just afraid
of losing you.
And I hate that I did,
for a while.]
And 6 months passed,
and I wondered if you had
any idea at all
of how much you've changed.
And all I did when I wasn't with you
was write out things
to try to explain to myself
how I fell for such an [idiot.]
(But no one else
could ever get away
with calling you that.)
And then you were so much more
than just my best friend.
You became the best damn thing
that's ever happened to me.
You brought out the rebel,
dying inside the unhappy academic.
You freed the dreamer,
the writer, the speaker,
inside this temperamental [brat.]
And the only thing, I guess.
That you couldn't do for me.
[Now that you're gone]
Was to teach this lost, little girl
how to live on without you.
Sugar
Author's Note: I finally decided to update the poems on this blog. =)) These have been on my Deviantart for a while now, but I decided to wait a bit until I could figure out what I wanted to post here. XD So the next few series of posts will be old poems that I'm moving, starting with this~
///
Trying to convince myself
harder and harder
that I'm still in love with you.
Through all the screaming,
I'll still find it in myself
to forgive all you do.
Because somehow, I know.
It's all easier than
to face the truth.
We both know
but can't find it in ourselves
to admit it.
I don't know if it's pride.
Or maybe we've gotten used
to the cycle we've fallen into.
Of screaming,
nights filled with tears.
Followed by a morning,
greeted by apologies
and kisses that taste
of the coffee you love so much.
But I now notice
how you douse it,
the once pure black mixture
with too much sugar.
It's far too bitter now,
you say.
Your taste has changed.
And now your kisses
are just too sweet.
And it makes me sick.
///
Trying to convince myself
harder and harder
that I'm still in love with you.
Through all the screaming,
I'll still find it in myself
to forgive all you do.
Because somehow, I know.
It's all easier than
to face the truth.
We both know
but can't find it in ourselves
to admit it.
I don't know if it's pride.
Or maybe we've gotten used
to the cycle we've fallen into.
Of screaming,
nights filled with tears.
Followed by a morning,
greeted by apologies
and kisses that taste
of the coffee you love so much.
But I now notice
how you douse it,
the once pure black mixture
with too much sugar.
It's far too bitter now,
you say.
Your taste has changed.
And now your kisses
are just too sweet.
And it makes me sick.
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