In this poem I released my most "evil" thoughts about a certain person. I hope she never ever reads this. Not that I've got anything to lose... not that there ever was anything to lose... But anyway, I could've been a bit nicer to express my feelings, but I didn't feel like it.
This poem is mainly about how someone crossed my lines but asking my attention and confirmation again and again. And because I was too lame to even know my own restrictions, I let her keep crossing them. I've learned my lesson about trusting people too soon.
She loved me, and needed me, untill I started telling the truth.
Anyways, it's funny how we tend to save our buttocks by telling lies, just to keep someone from being angry with you...
---
I really do like to be shy
or to be admired once a while.
Even though I think you're so kind,
and I wouldn't ever have made up my mind,
you know I wouldn't ever lie
to make you feel better at the time.
I try not to make a sound
but rapidly you turn around.
What kind of idiot do you take me for,
when asking me things you've asked me before.
I talk and talk just to avoid
the point that it's about.
I have to keep myself from saying things
that I'd really like to shout
"Don't you regret that one time?" there you go again.
I'd tell you I've changed my mind, but then
you wouldn't like me anymore,
and God knows, I do like to be adored
"What do you mean?"
"You know, that day we kissed..."
Of course, who would dare to reject
someone who slits her wrists.
So I say, "No," and that "This is the third time you asked."
She stutters and mutters, but it's clear to me
that I saw right through her mask.
(Which shows us that this conveniency
wasn't built to last,
'cause this used to be a funny game,
'till it became my daily task.)
You take adventage of my need to be excused
You think my ego is high, but it's bruised
We both make mistakes, but I'm constantly accused
And I feel like my kindness is being abused
~Aviva Creations
or to be admired once a while.
Even though I think you're so kind,
and I wouldn't ever have made up my mind,
you know I wouldn't ever lie
to make you feel better at the time.
I try not to make a sound
but rapidly you turn around.
What kind of idiot do you take me for,
when asking me things you've asked me before.
I talk and talk just to avoid
the point that it's about.
I have to keep myself from saying things
that I'd really like to shout
"Don't you regret that one time?" there you go again.
I'd tell you I've changed my mind, but then
you wouldn't like me anymore,
and God knows, I do like to be adored
"What do you mean?"
"You know, that day we kissed..."
Of course, who would dare to reject
someone who slits her wrists.
So I say, "No," and that "This is the third time you asked."
She stutters and mutters, but it's clear to me
that I saw right through her mask.
(Which shows us that this conveniency
wasn't built to last,
'cause this used to be a funny game,
'till it became my daily task.)
You take adventage of my need to be excused
You think my ego is high, but it's bruised
We both make mistakes, but I'm constantly accused
And I feel like my kindness is being abused
~Aviva Creations
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Nice!!
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