Post by Faerlain on Oct 5, 2005 2:45:06 GMT
Hm. As I've said so many times, I rarely write poetry, unless I'm emo or pondering something, or just randomly inspired. In this case, I think it was an odd combination of the first two.
Anyway, read. Tell me what you think. Fenris/Froggy is going to be titling it, so much love to him.
Multiply the Years
Two days.
I can't see anything but your face.
The argument is haunting; those looks of anger.
And I wish that you'd never loved me,
For then you could never hurt me.
And I'd be safe. Safe.
Three weeks.
It's getting hard to pretend that this is just a foolish game,
With that look of pure hatred, I can't deny that it's true
All those empty promises are now replaced by lies.
It'll never heal; you cannot forgive;
That little thirteen year old.
Four months.
I've stopped trying to think about it.
I heard you used to sleep right beside my crib;
Just watching me breathe.
Making sure I was safe; isn't that ironic?
Telling me to keep my little fingers away from the sockets,
Isn't it funny that you were the one to shock me?
One year.
Back off. Go away, stay away, die alone.
I don't ever want to see you again.
Every day your face reminds me.
I don't want the memories anymore.
I don't want the pain.
Two years.
Every word I say is angry,
It's war now, don't you know?
I'm sorry I ever hugged you just to smell your flannel shirts.
I'm sorry I listened to your advice.
I'm sorry I loved you.
Three years.
It's a quiet kind of acceptance,
That you find after looking for so long.
I can walk down the aisle alone.
I'll learn to do my taxes by myself,
Flying far away from you.
I know I'll never be your little girl.
Not anymore, Daddy.
Anyway, read. Tell me what you think. Fenris/Froggy is going to be titling it, so much love to him.
Multiply the Years
Two days.
I can't see anything but your face.
The argument is haunting; those looks of anger.
And I wish that you'd never loved me,
For then you could never hurt me.
And I'd be safe. Safe.
Three weeks.
It's getting hard to pretend that this is just a foolish game,
With that look of pure hatred, I can't deny that it's true
All those empty promises are now replaced by lies.
It'll never heal; you cannot forgive;
That little thirteen year old.
Four months.
I've stopped trying to think about it.
I heard you used to sleep right beside my crib;
Just watching me breathe.
Making sure I was safe; isn't that ironic?
Telling me to keep my little fingers away from the sockets,
Isn't it funny that you were the one to shock me?
One year.
Back off. Go away, stay away, die alone.
I don't ever want to see you again.
Every day your face reminds me.
I don't want the memories anymore.
I don't want the pain.
Two years.
Every word I say is angry,
It's war now, don't you know?
I'm sorry I ever hugged you just to smell your flannel shirts.
I'm sorry I listened to your advice.
I'm sorry I loved you.
Three years.
It's a quiet kind of acceptance,
That you find after looking for so long.
I can walk down the aisle alone.
I'll learn to do my taxes by myself,
Flying far away from you.
I know I'll never be your little girl.
Not anymore, Daddy.