late night/early morning writings 1:noteven poetry
It's night's like these I wonder
what it would've been like if I had said no.
just one word, could have changed everything.
i wouldn't have you.
that's hard to imagine,
life without you , that is.
you're not just part of it,
you are it.
i know it's cheesy, but it's true.
oh myriam, i write you bad poetry,
i bitch about every little thing
sometimes i don't call
and sometimes i call to often.
someitmes i lie,
and tell you that i'm not reading
when i'm at a good part in the book
and sometimes i keep on going
when you tell me to stop.
half the time i don't listen
to anything you say,
and the other half the time i hear it
then purposely forget it later.
i'm so bad to you,
i wonder why you're here.
though, i am usually pondering
te happiness that you bring
trying to figure out what it is
that makes you so amazing.
so far all i have is that you're myriam.
and you're just awesome like that.
i don't think i[ll call this a poem.
it'd be really sad if i did.
though that may have some to do
with the fact that's it's quarter to 3 am
and you've been asleep for hours.
but i can't sleep
i miss you too much.
this sucks,
i'm hurting in my chest.
it's a deep, almost echoing ache
resonating from withing my chest,
notifying me that you're not here.
hello, i can tell, i don't need your 'help'
thankya very much!
oh myriam,
it feel so good to think your name.
i want to say it soo much.
but my room has been quiet
for quite some time now,
andi don't know if im ready to end the silence just yet.
i'm getting tired.
i think i'll go to sleep
good night, my love
and anyone else
who is currently worse off than i am
wandering livejournal posts
and reading noteven poetry
that's a good one
(not really)
tha'ts what gonna call this
noteven poetry.
thank you people who wander livejournal,
in leading me to find the name
for whatever the helll
kind of literature i'm writing
fuck
fuck
fuck
fuck
fuck
good night, moon,
or good morning,
if you have a mathematical stick up your ass.
good night, myriam
and good nigh,t live journal.
i'm sorry for putting you through this, lovies.
what it would've been like if I had said no.
just one word, could have changed everything.
i wouldn't have you.
that's hard to imagine,
life without you , that is.
you're not just part of it,
you are it.
i know it's cheesy, but it's true.
oh myriam, i write you bad poetry,
i bitch about every little thing
sometimes i don't call
and sometimes i call to often.
someitmes i lie,
and tell you that i'm not reading
when i'm at a good part in the book
and sometimes i keep on going
when you tell me to stop.
half the time i don't listen
to anything you say,
and the other half the time i hear it
then purposely forget it later.
i'm so bad to you,
i wonder why you're here.
though, i am usually pondering
te happiness that you bring
trying to figure out what it is
that makes you so amazing.
so far all i have is that you're myriam.
and you're just awesome like that.
i don't think i[ll call this a poem.
it'd be really sad if i did.
though that may have some to do
with the fact that's it's quarter to 3 am
and you've been asleep for hours.
but i can't sleep
i miss you too much.
this sucks,
i'm hurting in my chest.
it's a deep, almost echoing ache
resonating from withing my chest,
notifying me that you're not here.
hello, i can tell, i don't need your 'help'
thankya very much!
oh myriam,
it feel so good to think your name.
i want to say it soo much.
but my room has been quiet
for quite some time now,
andi don't know if im ready to end the silence just yet.
i'm getting tired.
i think i'll go to sleep
good night, my love
and anyone else
who is currently worse off than i am
wandering livejournal posts
and reading noteven poetry
that's a good one
(not really)
tha'ts what gonna call this
noteven poetry.
thank you people who wander livejournal,
in leading me to find the name
for whatever the helll
kind of literature i'm writing
fuck
fuck
fuck
fuck
fuck
good night, moon,
or good morning,
if you have a mathematical stick up your ass.
good night, myriam
and good nigh,t live journal.
i'm sorry for putting you through this, lovies.