Published December 18, 2007
I wish you knew the dark nights spent just thinking about you.
It hurts in a way that he won't ever know.
but at the end of the night, its all just words in a paper, ink thats been smudged and a heart that has been hurt more than its share
I wish you knew, how much you've torn up this burnt up heart.
I wish you knew how you take over both sides of my brain and most of all my heart.
For your love is the kind of feelings that hurts, but you still adore it.
It's the kind of feeling that can tear you apart;
but can keep you from falling apart.
I felt like writing, and i came up with this, its a draft, should i contine with it, or how should i make it better. opinions i must have tons of grammer. so exuse me -.-
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You deserve better than the middle of the page.
I dunno. It wasn't that original of an idea: the tortured poet, the love that is out of reach. I did like the last two lines, though. It was unspectacular, yet effective.