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About Varied / Student Member JerremyMale/United States Recent Activity
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She holds my heart,
And plucks on it's strings.
Not to tease or hurt,
But to say the sweetest things.

I can trust her though,
It will be kept hidden away.
Far from the evils I know,
So I can always stay.

This one I chose,
To have my heart to hold,
Doesnt just have the beauty of a Rose,
But has a heart made of gold.

My little golden flower,
May not seem the type to shove,
But she will neither cower.
Because she fought only for my Love.
I do not speak, for fear that no one cares
I do not speak, seeing that you are just too pretty
I do not speak, thinking someone already dislikes me

I try to speak, hoping somebody will listen
I try to speak, so I can maybe get to know that cute girl
I try to speak, realizing I found a friend

I speak now, knowing my voice will be heard
I speak now, just so I can try to make her blush
I speak now, so my friends can finally know me
I can't help but think of things no one knows
These words, rhymes, hymns, and flows.
They cloud my mind, crush my soul
Dig through my heart, leaving a hole.
Yet, these thoughts that tear through my existence
Help me move on, and keep my persistence.
Mature Content Filter is On
(Contains: strong language)
I can't. I seriously fucking can't. I'm tired of thinking like this every night, having these thoughts swim and fester and grow into gigantic proportions only to be forgotten next morning... And to resurface again. And again. Each night. EVERY DAMN NIGHT. Like it has been for months. They come back and increase twofold, exponentially, however the hell you would say that it is constantly building on top of everything that enters within the halls of my mind. I can't think straight during the day. I can't have a good moment in time with anyone or anything without it constantly resurfacing the instant it is over. It clouds my judgement, fogs my positive thoughts, seriously fucks with my psyche. And it all stems from one person. THE one person. The only one I want to talk to. The only person I feel should have my affection. My touch. The only one to ever see me as I want to be. Why is this a problem? Because I can't tell them. Or anyone for that matter. No one would ever care to hear what I have to say. No one exists close enough to me to understand and know what I feel to truly care at all. Not even that one. They don't want to know at all. Want to know of my opinion? No, it's wrong. Want to know how I feel? No, you're being too dramatic. Care to hear a story about anything? Sorry, you bore me. I have so much to say, CONSTANTLY, and it never stops eating at me and it hurts. Terribly. But there is no one to listen to it. No one that would fully understand. No one that would care entirely. No one that could properly console me. EXCEPT... That one. Before all of this. Before I ever became fearful. Before I was pained to attempt sleep. When everything was, blissful, if that is still considered to be anything. I know it isn't now. We're too far gone, all of us. I would like to think it isn't though. I have to. It's just how I am. If I stop acting out my fantasy, I surely will die. Not from traditional means, mind you. Whoever the hell YOU are. But I must be in bliss, I must create my deepest desires, and bring them to reality. Although I give them away, trusting them to the one who may destroy everything I birthed at their will, I have to do it. Out of necessity, and out of affection. To hopefully represent my faith, my loyalty. To show what still drives me. Or just to show my blind stupidity. Regardless, none of this matters. This... Late night rambling, I guess... isn't meant to be seen. That's what I intend, but obviously I sing a different tune in the morn, in comparison to most all nights. My text, written solely as a means of "expulsion" shouldn't be a guideline of me as a person at the moment. If anything is to be taken from this at all, it should be to anticipate the next night. And to hope that all I have explained will cease as a thought entirely. Hopefully my subtle cries for help will be heard... At least, I think they're subtle. If not, then I truly am alone. No one leaves anyone they love to rot like this. A kind soul wouldn't allow even the worst to writhe as I do...
She holds my heart,
And plucks on it's strings.
Not to tease or hurt,
But to say the sweetest things.

I can trust her though,
It will be kept hidden away.
Far from the evils I know,
So I can always stay.

This one I chose,
To have my heart to hold,
Doesnt just have the beauty of a Rose,
But has a heart made of gold.

My little golden flower,
May not seem the type to shove,
But she will neither cower.
Because she fought only for my Love.

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Ray130021
Jerremy
Artist | Student | Varied
United States
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