tearsTears fall on my shoulder.tears by ~wordsofdeath
Caused by him.
Unknown by him.
lostMother... where have you gone?lost by ~wordsofdeath
You've left me to sit here and wait,
Just wait to join you... wherever you are.
But... how will I know how to get there?
You left me no map, no directions...
Just a tape recording your lullabye...
Father... why did you let it happen,
If you were just gonna leave too?
I have nobody now... and all you left me
Was a depressing old memory,
And a tape recording of a spoken goodbye...
Auntie... did you follow my mother?
Did you finally find she went? And if so...
If only you could bring her back...
But... you can't and you know it... you told me yourself...
So why couldn't you just wait for me?
sleepless nightsI can't sleepsleepless nights by ~wordsofdeath
Because I'm thinking of you.
And I know this will turn out
A terrible mess,
But I've just gotta say,
You truly are the best.
The best girlfriend and friend,
The best girl that I know,
You're everything.... just everything
You are my world.
And well.... I love you, girl.
Another night of no sleep
And I really should say,
I have no idea what I should say.
By now it's three days,
And I got for what I payed....
and I know it was all me,
And I never said these words, count of three....
I love you.
And I don't know what to do.
Should I try to be cute?
Or should I remain mute?
Third night of writing and fourth without sleep....
Letting you go was my biggest mistake and I wish
It was one that I never, ever made.
I miss you. I love you. I just want you back.
It's killing me, just killing me, to be here without you.
So baby, I'm sorry.... I love you. I miss you.
My writing is
Sloppy and this apology
Bad, but you were the best
That I ever had.
There's little to say now but please ju
You'll Never DieHear me read it!You'll Never Die by `KathrynODriscoll
They say that if a writer falls in love with you then you never really die.
Instead your body is laid out in its funerial shrouds and moulds are made. Soft impressions of you to be pressed onto the blank faces of future loves.
Every time I write of taking comfort in a safe place in a storm, it will be your forearm. Every half-made smile will be on your lips, and every touch will be constructed from the residue beneath your fingernails.
When I metaphise of trees' blood, the leaves that give the energy so that a willow can provide shade for those in need, it will be your blood, it will be your light drenched kisses.
Every tear on every face will taste of the sweat that you put into keeping me happy. Every soaring song of love will be played through your windpipe, your trachea my instrument of choice.
For every time that a hero has the strength to walk on, I will use your feet. I will weld them to my own and walk a mile. Wal