Tuesday, October 30, 2012

Remember.

I'm worried that my future self will forget my current morals.
Sorry, but the lifestyle you may live at that point in time isn't "mine".
Please, for the sake of us, remember our current goals and dreams.
Forgive and forget are key to friends - are you making them now?
Me... I'm still the same I just hope we changed for the better.
For our family to still respect us, make good companions.
Being level-headed will help you, us really, in the long run.
Weak-minded... If you still are that is... Won't help - good luck Sandy.

Friday, October 26, 2012

Please.

{Because I get this feel all the time and I can't.}

That smile, it kills me inside.
Don't direct it to another girl,
Only show that face when you're with me.

Almost like a child who receives a toy,
That look provides me sustenance, the energy to live.
It's become something I can't live without.
It's become something I want to keep with me.
But what if you start to show that smile,
A private expression between the two of us,
To another person?

She's prettier than me, smarter too.
She's everything I'm not – athletic, graceful, funny, you name it.
I wouldn't be surprised if you fell for her;
She has everything... You would look for in a girl.
It's like she's the majestic and beautiful swan
And I'm the ugly duckling in the stories and fantasies given to children.
Except this time, the ugly duckling doesn't have a happy ending.

Please, just don't be closer to her than you are to me.
Don't show her your secret facial expressions
Or the voices you make when it's just the two of us.
Don't include her in our inside jokes,
Or tell them to her first and exclude me.
Please... Don't replace me.

Wednesday, October 3, 2012

Brightness.

{I hate starting things with pronouns---}

You're so brights, so smart, so liked.
Whereas I'm the complete opposite.
How did we ever become friends?

I want to be like you, capable of
Laughing among friends and even able to make them.
I want to stand on the same platform as you,
No one being placed on a a higher pedestal; just.. an equal footing.
Yet I know I'll never be able to reach you.
You're simply too bright, and I'm just too dull.
Our two paths might never cross again in the future.
This incident where we... Became friends was a once in a lifetime occurrence,
I'm sure of it.

Maybe in the future we'll meet again
And stand on the same patch of grass.
Maybe then we'll finally have our paths cross yet again, and this time, not because of a fluke.
Maybe then... We can look each other in the eye in public.

Tuesday, October 2, 2012

Death's Doors.

{I'm sorry this was saved on my phone for so long and I never had the chance to update this blog---}

    I wonder how people knocking on death's doors think and feel before dying. Do they realize jut what is happening to them the moments before death? Or are they shown a pleasant dream, one where they are reliving their happiest memory or living the future they could never see... Could never have? Could it be that up to their very last breath, they are fighting to stay alive, stealing gasps of air whenever they could? Despite all the pain that life had brought them, those people put in all the effort they could before breathing became too much. I wonder... To they know how their family, their kin, must have felt? Could they have at least sensed what was happening around the room, every corner emitting tears and a want for solace? Or were they only vaguely aware of that matter, much more interested in the utopia that was offered to them seconds before? And in that final moment before they crossed over to the land of the dead, are they pulled back into reality and shown their family crowding around them, each of them crying and begging them not to go? Maybe it's at that moment that the person suddenly reaches an epiphany, that death isn't something that you should want. Surrounded by the tears, the sobs, and the emotional atmosphere, the person doesn't want their story to continue on at that path but... It's too late. The heart gives away, and the blood flow and senses come to a slow stop. With that last image burned in their mind, did the person die with regret?