JoJoIsAwesome96

Remember that Spring when we rain through the fields, and I slipped and fell? I can't remember you whether you broke my heart, or broke my fall. Remember that Summer when I almost drowned, and you sat along the shore with outstretched hands? I can't remember whether you pushed me in, or pulled me out. Remember that Fall when you wrote those three words on that desiccated leaf, and slipped it under my door? I can't remember whether it sad "I love you" or "IOU". (As far as I'm concerned, they mean the same thing) Remember that Winter when we found that old, broken snowglobe, and spent hours trying to fix it? I can't remember wheth

I guess I'm not good enough, dear. Not good enough for you to continue your pretending. I've never been good at writing. Or keeping stable relationships. I used to think you actually cared for my well-being. But I guess I was wrong. I used to care about you, too. Used is an overused word. Just like every other word that describes you. I think deep down you care. Maybe some part of you really does. You just don't show it. Thank you for blowing it. Everything we had. Everything we  never had. You're my best fair-weather friend. So, thank you. For making me what I am today. I've ate up your lies. Now I'll spit them back out.

You are perfect. Easily understood. Beautiful. Flawless. I am not. You don't want me for me. I could travel the world to find out why you can spin the sun on your fingertips. And how you can capture the moonbeams in your eyes. Set out alone. Find out why. Love never dies. People do. Thinking about how it could've been helps me get by. Floating through the days without noticing their passing. Cover my tracks. Erase the impressions. Keep the past in the present. And the future in your nightmares. Watch as it swallows you whole. You don't care. I could find you again. The real you. I could get as close as possible. You cou

I miss you. I love you. I want you. I need you. Overused sentences, mishandled words, drenched paper, dried up inkwells. I don't want to lose you. Your eyes. Your smile. Your personality. Everything. I'll always have the pictures, the flowers, the notes, the impression you made. Time erased the memories, the joy, the peace, the love. I don't want to lose you. Turning around is the hardest thing to do. 'Cause I know you won't be there.

I. Remember when we used to be so happy? I don't. Then again, you never spoke enough. And I never spoke at all. II. In your solitude, you did speak to me. It wasn't enough. It never is. (Or was) I remember what you told me. Of how we used to be so happy, (We never were) And of how the seasons change, Yet people simply don't. III. I kind of miss you, I suppose. In between the sweet bliss of isolation, And the constantly large span of knowledge one must learn, Realization has crashed upon my shoulders. You were never there. You never cared. And that worst part is, I believed you were. I thought you knew, Throughout all

2+2= 4 1+1= 2 4-4= 0 As for love, it's like an equation. Much more difficult than a simple addition or multiplication problem. It's not an expression because all problems have to have an answer, right? Wrong. 3, 2, 1,  . . . . . Bang. Did you know, that emotions actually stem from the brain, NOT the heart? So, if you say that your heart is broken, wouldn't that mean that your mind is instead? I digress. I tried to write a poem, but all the words came out wrong. Then again, would you want a poem, that sounds so similar to a song? I tried to write the words, I tried to write the equation. I tried to answer the problem

  Pride (noun)-- a high or inordinate opinion of one's own dignity, importance, merit, or superiority, whether as cherished in the mind or as displayed in bearing, conduct, etc. Pride How wonderful. How lovely. Prideful. Pretentious. Perfect. Like they matter. Like anything matters. I have me. I am wonderful enough, I believe. No, I know. Say what you want, but I know that you Envy my ability to be flawless. Though you sit around lazily, like a Sloth, I know that you still see how wonderful I am. Greed is the word, I believe? For wanting to much of a good thing? Like me? Wrath is easily displayed, since I highly doubt you could eve

"I love you"? Wow. Gosh. That means so....little to me. I love you is overrated, and the true meaning is outdated. Kind of cheesy, if you ask me. You think I'm pretty? Aww, how sweet. And how many girls have tried and failed to sweep of their feet? Bet you say that to every girl. So, I guess "I love you" means literally nothing. Such an overused phrase, Pity. It used to actually mean something. People actually used to care. Now I wouldn't think twice, and I'd rather be one than part of a pair. When it all comes down to it, I guess you're not really going to be there. I guess you're not going to even know me. I guess that y

"What's love?" "Stupid." "...That doesn't answer my question."~ Love. Symptoms: Butterflies in the stomach. Blurring of the thoughts. Rapid beating of the heart. Ceaseless thoughts about someone. Cure. Unknown. Love. So simple. So beautiful. So messed up. When you find a cure, please, do tell me. Until then, I'll be waiting. The beating of the heart. It beats for you, then? I suppose. Does that mean it's going to break again? That's how the cycle goes.