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Stuck on you

There’s a room full of people

But I am stuck on you.

And I get it.

I get how you feel now,

Like you’re sorry that you don’t care

But you don’t.

I watch you and I get mad

For not looking away

For still caring.

And I can’t hate you

Because I get it.

I get the feeling of wanting to care

But not caring, the same way.

Such a stupid game we play

Him stuck on me,

Me stuck on you,

You stuck on her

And she stuck on he.

None of us care

But I get it

And wonder for how much longer

Will I be stuck on you.

 

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Playing

We are puzzle pieces

That don’t belong together

But I keep pushing

But I keep losing.

It’s frustrating.

 

You remember

The feeling?

Of trying to put

A circle into a square?

That’s what it

Feels like.

Like I am on the

Wrong side.

For trying to do this.

 

There’s no real reason

For me to keep you.

But it’s like my pride

Has made it

Its mission.

 

My world would be better

If I stop with you.

But I keep playing

I keep saying,

There is something.

When there is nothing.

You aren’t my puzzle piece.

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Rather not

Sometimes I catch a glimpse

Of who I have become

And I hate it.

I hate this part

Where between right and wrong

I stay paralyzed,

Unable to make a choice

Because fear and insecurity plague me.

I don’t want to feel. 

I really don’t want to feel.

Feeling makes me do things

I rather not do,

Be things I rather not be.

And I rather not be

If the person I glimpse in the mirror

Is who I am meant to be.

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Soul

There is something poetic about a pure soul, for it has the ability and strength to hope beyond hope.  It’s not jaded nor burdened with the sins of the commoner, too plagued by shame to hope for better days.

A pure soul hopes and prays that the jaded soul may once again find its way, while the jaded soul worries that the pure soul may one day feel the hopelessness that drove it astray from the path in the first place.