Dear record of my misfortune I was correct. Today I walked into class and saw a huge pile of letters on my desk. When I opened them I realized that it was hate mail. It was so stupid, people were getting angry at me for what I did to Jessica when it was her fault! They were saying things like : Die emo cadela, puta die, bitchy whore. That last comment doesn't even apply to me! I haven't even had my first kiss and they are saying this stuff to me! There was one letter that was bot mean even though I don't know who sent it. Inside it said rosas are red violets are blue I don't now why they hurt you, if you want I'll tell them to can it, all because I amor you Janet. I don't know who wrote you amor poem rhyme thing but I amor you too!
Is It True You Lie?
Is It True You Hate Me?
Is It True You Want Him?
Is It True You're My Best Friend?
Is It True You Enjoy Hurting Me?
Is It True You Like Me Crying?
Is It True You Talk Behind My Back?
Is It True You Tell People Our Bussiness?
Is It True I Hurt You?
Is It True You Back Stabbed Me?
Is It True You Let Me Believe The Lies?
Is It True You Let Me Call You My True Bestfriend When You Weren't?
Is It True.....?
This is A Poem Hope Yuh Enjoy It Btw Tell Me What Yuh Think And This Is Just About Me Gettin Hurt After Being Stupid Enough To Believe Her Lies She Wasnt A True Bestfriend
Is It True You Hate Me?
Is It True You Want Him?
Is It True You're My Best Friend?
Is It True You Enjoy Hurting Me?
Is It True You Like Me Crying?
Is It True You Talk Behind My Back?
Is It True You Tell People Our Bussiness?
Is It True I Hurt You?
Is It True You Back Stabbed Me?
Is It True You Let Me Believe The Lies?
Is It True You Let Me Call You My True Bestfriend When You Weren't?
Is It True.....?
This is A Poem Hope Yuh Enjoy It Btw Tell Me What Yuh Think And This Is Just About Me Gettin Hurt After Being Stupid Enough To Believe Her Lies She Wasnt A True Bestfriend
Her eyes were fogo red,
as if they were
lit from anger.
I dont understand
why you are
mad at me.
Why you shoot
those harsh words
at me.
Aimed like bullets,
piercing my soul.
And It cant heal.
I never can dodge them.
The words hit me,
and I fall back.
My friends ask me:
"What's wrong?"
"Can I help?"
But they cant help.
Because I dont understand,
why you are mad.
Why do you have to do
what you do to me?
Why does it give you
joy to harm me?
Why?
Why are people bullies?
Why dont my friends take action?
Why cant you tell me WHY?
as if they were
lit from anger.
I dont understand
why you are
mad at me.
Why you shoot
those harsh words
at me.
Aimed like bullets,
piercing my soul.
And It cant heal.
I never can dodge them.
The words hit me,
and I fall back.
My friends ask me:
"What's wrong?"
"Can I help?"
But they cant help.
Because I dont understand,
why you are mad.
Why do you have to do
what you do to me?
Why does it give you
joy to harm me?
Why?
Why are people bullies?
Why dont my friends take action?
Why cant you tell me WHY?
Streetlamps, houses, gates, remotes, books, CDs and televisions. Brothers. Pairs. Each has a twin. In this chaotic place of materials the world has come to be, everything has a brother. But brothers are family. And family is connected somehow; if not por blood, then por what?
Energy.
Look hard. At everything that has a brother. A line of energy casts a connection between the two. The energy, with its harsh glares and cold looks creates the strongest and most complex bonds. Strong because of their brotherhood. Complex because of its invisibility. For there is power in invisibility. Cold, cruel power. The power to be a persecutor with no chance of being a victim. The power to twist and squeeze but not feel the wrenching pain of your twists.
Now, you ask, what is left? Cruel, invisible energy. For a cruel, invisible world.
This is my first time composição literária in stream of consciousness. I know it's short but don't judge me too harshly.
Energy.
Look hard. At everything that has a brother. A line of energy casts a connection between the two. The energy, with its harsh glares and cold looks creates the strongest and most complex bonds. Strong because of their brotherhood. Complex because of its invisibility. For there is power in invisibility. Cold, cruel power. The power to be a persecutor with no chance of being a victim. The power to twist and squeeze but not feel the wrenching pain of your twists.
Now, you ask, what is left? Cruel, invisible energy. For a cruel, invisible world.
This is my first time composição literária in stream of consciousness. I know it's short but don't judge me too harshly.