Little Scribbles and Random thoughts that float around…
I am a poet writing of my pain
I am a person living a life of shame
I am your daughter hiding her depression
I am your sister making a good impression
I am your friend acting like I’m fine
I am a wisher wishing this life weren’t mine
I am a girl who thinks of suicide
I am a teenager pushing her tears aside
I am a student who doesn’t have a clue
I am the girl sitting next to you
I am the one asking you to care
I am your best friend hoping you’ll be there!
Remember the way things used to be?
When us girls wouldn’t mind getting our hands dirty.
The biggest obstacle of the day was when you fell off your bike.
And boys could be your best friend without ever thinking about loving them.
i want a boy—
who can wrestle with me and let me win.
who i can talk to about anything
who laughs at my jokes.
a boy who puts my cold hands
in his warm hoodie pockets.
who lets me use his sweatshirt for a pillow.
who buys me 25 rupees rings and pink tuck.
who says i love you & means it.
who will kiss me in the rain, in the sunshine, and in the snow.
whos calls unexpectedly.
who will have many inside jokes with and me remember each one.
a boy who notices girls “assets”.
who realizes that girls say things but dont always mean them.
who shows up at my shopping trips, cribbing about it but actually likes it.
who i can go swimming with on hot days.
who can tell me his problems and let me help.
who will listen to me talk —
about the new nail polish i got.
who will let me beat him up when i get angry.
who writes love letters to me, but doesnt send them.
who draws pictures and slips them gently into my bag.
who saves his genuine, big smiles for me.
a boy with deep eyes, that can see through faces into depths.
who gives me his t-shirt to change into and not expect to get it back.
who knows my favorite color, song, car, vegetable, perfume and the color of my toothbrush.
a boy who will shake my uncle’s hand and look my mother in the eye.
who will call me by my full name — first, middle and last.
a boy who will kiss me and tell me im pretty.
a boy who will let me cry to him.
who will squeeze my hips just right.
who suprises me and compliments
my shoes and plays with my hair.
who knows when i have a math test or when i fail one.
a boy who smells like he just stepped out of the shower.
who wears cologne that i can subtly smell when im leaning on his shoulder.
who tells me i have a nice laugh
and a smile that light up the room and simply be mine to hold…
“I think she was afraid to love sometimes. I think it scared her. She was the type to like things that were concrete, like the ocean. Something you could point to and know what it is. I think that’s why she always struggled with God. And I think that’s why she also struggled with love. She couldn’t touch it. She couldn’t hold on to it and make sure it never changed. But sometimes it’s those things you can’t touch that you need to hold on to the most.”
this was sumthing i wrote very long ago so it sounds extremely kiddish! Errrr…