Young Writers Society

I'm in a sudden... parinoid skitzofranic mode... so... yeah... : these are what tears cause, nothing good ever comes out of them: -Me


It’s the looming scent of hand-lotion
That stimulates me for today.
But by tomorrow it’ll be gone again
Until I get to hug you

You owe me an all-day shopping spree
Because you prodded me in the chest until I agreed
To get my “bushy” eyebrows waxed.
I just hope it doesn’t hurt as much as your friend claimed

It was when I was at the hospital, half aware to life
I cried for you like when I was lost. And I was lost.
And you took the time to stay four nights with me in a row
For once not caring how much the gas prices were

I can never beat myself up enough for not saying enough
Now I fear you are slipping farther away
Leaving me alone to take care of your unfinished business
But if I am to be knee-high in your legacy I will not continue it
You have to do it
I would sooner die before you then watch you fade away