She

She is lost.
Because of some not-so-stupid boy.
That's not how it's supposed to be.
She's supposed to be smiling for the hurting.
She doesn't accept this face.

She is blinded with love and doesn't know where to start.
There is just this empty, bottomless pit in her heart.
She can't help but hates the pain she ensures herself.
She wishes she had the power to just put it all on the shelf.
The weakness and heart ache that comes along with this game.
It's just not fun anymore, it's just not the same.
This room stinks of memories and happiness there was at a time.
But she doesn't speak of that time, nor of when he used the word "mine".

When she told you she'd never stop loving you, she didn't know how much that would hurt.
She thought that would be a beautiful, blissful feeling.
But she wishes it worked where the second you stopped loving her, she would just stop, too.
Instead of this constant pain and reminder that it could never happen.
Solely because you don't love her enough to try.


~ Lia Rose 5/13/13 - 5/19/13

The Abyss

You only know empathy once you've been through the wreck.
Jingles along the dock smile because they know.
They're laughing at your pain because you have caused it on someone else before.
That person was scarred, scared, and lonely, while you're feeling sorry for yourself because now you have to endure the pain.
That's not fair.
This is the abyss, the young and the weak.
People go on because they don't understand the falling.
But they lay at home slowly decaying.
Stop the second you start, but open yourself up.
There is no right answer to the conflict of wishing.
There is no correct assignment of the truth.
The baffling action followed by the wavering cry.
Why does life listen to your fears?
Piling up, all at once the attack is made.
Hoping and fearing the unknown.
Coughing up the hate that builds is healing but not real.
It comes from the soul, the glimmering bit of excitement.
Bathing in the glory of tonight, none of this is right.
Everything about this is so right.
Just don't forget the meaning of the true dream.
The tactful goodbye will never be the end.

~ Lia Rose 5/8/13

The Happy One

So thoughtful was the spirit of the being.
So joyful was the day it all became this.
So painful was the pounding of the drum.
So hateful was the mind of the young one.
So graceful was the placement of the words.
So tame was the fire that burned inside.
So determined was the rain that fell on us.
So fearful was the bear that melted my heart.
So bright was the future of the song.
So scornful was the man who ate his bread.
So shriveled was the body that ached to be loved.

Just another day of complaints that all mean the same.
You'll never be the happy one if what you have
Is less important than what you don't.

The Great Rejection

It's one of those days I'm missing you more than usual.
Do you miss me?
Probably not.
You said goodbye with such ease.
You ripped the band aid off so fast,
While I was still slowly peeling it back.
Smiling seems so fake now.
It's just my mouth saying "This would normally be funny,"
With my eyes saying "But I just can't seem to find happiness right now."

I hate those days where I miss you more than usual.
They're so painful and slow and real.
I never wanted to feel this way again,
But I guess that's just how it's supposed to be.
The smiles all mean nothing,
While my thoughts are my world.
Picturing the happy moments make it worse.
Because when I smiled I didn't know your thoughts.
They could have been the same as mine,
Or they could have been on "goodbye" the whole time.