How to love a girl who can't love herself. by lupus-astra, literature
Literature
How to love a girl who can't love herself.
one.
When she cries herself to sleep
six out of seven nights a week you must
say nothing. You must simply take
her in your arms and kiss her gaunt,
pale cheeks and wait for her to
slumber at the sound of your heart.
two.
On the days where she wishes she
were part of the stars, tell her
no. Tell her that there are too many
lights in the sky and that just one
would be forgotten the moment you looked
away from it. Tell her that she is perfect
the way she is: completely human.
three.
Don't let her think about the scars
that no one but her can see. If she
says
I met the Wanderer once, in my travels. She was on foot, and I on a horse; her pack looked heavy, her sword sharp, her eyes shallow, and so very gold. Her tongue traipsed over words like a dancer, and her lips, when she smiled, were like the bend in a river: fluid and lithe, but gone in an instant as I passed on the current.
Would she sup with me? She would, and she and her melodious tones sat with me to share what I had, which was sufficient. We talked; I told her of my home and my wives, and the honey that I carried to the winery. I told her of the valley I lived in, and how green it was, how blue the mountains could be, how the river cut
She sits at her desk
Her headphones in,
The world shut out.
She bleeds for others
As words fly from
Her mind to her fingertips.
She stares at the screen,
At every little comment,
The good and the painful.
She forms her emotions
Into books and poems
To throw away the hurt.
She's a writer,
And her best weapons
Are her mind and her pen.
I Don't Mean To Be Rude... by WordOfChen, literature
Literature
I Don't Mean To Be Rude...
But I am getting quite sick of your attitude.
And if you think you are free of all guilt and suspicion.
I'm afraid, you will find, you are only in remission...
-----
For I'll hunt you quietly, silent and slow.
And I'll wait till you slip, before I lay you low.
But when you're filled to the brim with fear; chasing the shadows away.
I'll appear inside your mirror--and I might come out to play...
...So tell me, do you fear me now?
-Chen Yuan Wen, 16th December 2013
reasons to love a shy girl by littleblueraccoon, literature
Literature
reasons to love a shy girl
i. men fear strong women,
but she's far from strong.
this wisp of a girl
doesn't even need a hurricane
to fall apart.
she'd glued and re-glued,
old bonds wearing thin,
but if you ask politely,
she'll let you touch her scars.
ii. her lips are fettered in rusted chains.
you'd need a crowbar to pry up
her whispered secrets.
you are not worthy to hear her voice
just as she is not worthy to give it to you.
she told me everything she knows,
and i shut it away,
kept it safe.
i tied the threads into double knots
just to make sure
they wouldn't curl away from me,
twisted up like a dead spider's legs.
iii. she is hewn from shadow,
woven from grains o
How are you?
I am fine, thank you.
Stop lying…
How was your weekend?
It was great, tons of fun!
Besides the nights I spent crying….
Are you sure you’re okay?
Yeah, of course I am fine.
No I’m not I am in so much pain….
Can you imagine being alone?
No, that would be horrible!
When I was young, I believed in fairy tales.
I believed that if your heart willed it,
That love could overcome anything.
That one day, two lovers could always be together.
But those were simple lies I think...
After all, how does one reach across a window;
Reach across a screen...
To hold someone on the other side,
Before they slip through your fingers.
Like a lonely dance between air and water,
I can only stand on the surface of the lake,
And see her smiling on the other side.
...
Sometimes, I would draw pictures on the surface;
These thin useless arms of mine scrawling tiny doodles,
And she would smile and reply to each one:
Includin
The music is gone. by BatmanWithBunnyEars, literature
Literature
The music is gone.
I remember emotion
Like the deaf recall a tune.
I still have the notion,
But even that will be gone soon.
The songs are muffled at first,
But the notes remain.
I can still be immersed
In musical joy and pain.
But like a copy of a copy of a copy,
Notes are lost and misplaced,
The whole thing gets sloppy,
A masterpiece defaced.
Finally, the end of the blaze
The last notes die in a frost
Leaving the profound malaise
That something beautiful was lost.
Dead is the feeling I once had.
Left in a mute concert hall,
I wonder how it can hurt so bad,
To feel nothing at all.
Dear mommy, please don't hurt yourself.
I need you to hold my hand.
From crossing the little old gravel road
To helping me find wonderland.
Dear mommy, please don't hate yourself.
I love the way you used to be.
Happy and joyful, so filled with love
Or at least that's how you seemed to me.
Dear mommy, maybe I don't understand.
But please don't let yourself go.
I need you now more than ever,
And more than you'll ever know.
Dear mommy, please don't leave me.
I love you.. Don't you understand?
Mommy, please don't kill yourself.
I still need you to hold my hand.
“You’re just sad.”
“Suck it up.”
And the worst?
“Get over it.”
I’m not just sad. I suffer from depression
Waiting for happiness’s resurrection.
I can’t just forget it, it’s in me for good
I can’t do the things that I know I should.
I’m not just sad. I’m broken. I’m lost.
I’ve tried everything to fix it, no matter the cost.
I’ve carried a blade just to hold to my wrist.
I’ve carried a dream inside of my fist.
I’ve talked about it, like they say I should do
But all my efforts are stopped by ignorant people like you.
“You&rs