Here it is again
a chance
to try something new
take a step
which I might forget
for it could lead
to nothing
but it could leap
to something.
This pounding heart
could be bluffing
to convince my brain
that this is sane
and this could happen
but then again
I have to remember
what's happened before
there's no assurance
there's not really anything
it's just a case of waiting
to see what fate brings.
As sad as this will make me sound, not to mention pathetic and maybe slightly like Bridget Jones, yesterday at about two in the morning I think? ( I don' tend to sleep till around 4) I was just sat in my room sobbing.
After I had watched 90210 and Glee.
It wasn't so much the show themselves that made me cry, more so what they show. Couples.
Always couples. People being together and despite problems, having relationships.
It was horrible to progress back to the state of feeling alone and the reasoning behind this that I'm ugly. Alone, ugly and crying at two in the morning. Crank out the chocolate and you have the beginning of a chick flick. Looking back, it was a spectacular pity fest.
The worse thing is though, is that that's what in my head. It's just kind of pushed down under all the stuff. But I do genuinely feel like that. Dearie me.
Anyway, I know I said I would try to write less whingy, 'romantic pictures' poems but I thought with this reasoning of last night, I was allowed some self indulgence in this one.
Reading it back, this is probably one of the most honest and open poems I've done.
It's not so much the fact
I need someone
to complete me
I don't really want to
be part of some romantic story
something that completely
alters history,
I just want something simple.
A hand to hold
someone to grow old (with)
he can give me his coat
if I get cold
not to tell me I'm beautiful
but he thinks I am
to smile before kissing me
to hold me when I'm sad
or hold me whenever
so tight I think he'll never let go
and I will always know
that he's here
not just for me
but because he wants to be.
Despite all the change
through all the seasons
living independently
some might call it
growing up
underneath it all
I'm still me,
the same naive girl
who reads too much
in to looks
and hopes with each
pump of the heart
that for once
she hasn't read too deep
and that look
there
means something.
Oneword.com - literally wrote it in about 30 seconds - just trying a different way of writing these things.
Return to me
I beg you please
wait.
You weren't mine at all
I wish you were
I wish you could
I wish you would
stay with me
forever more.
