So... (possible triggers)
Iv0_An
Registrant
This poem is old, written around 7 years ago and it's one of the few works I initially wrote in English back then. When I discovered the poetry section in this forum last summer, I posted some of my old works, but I refrained from posting this one, probably because of the F word, because I don't usually use that kind of talking. But let's say I feel more confident to post it now. I will leave the F word with the "*" in it, because this is how I originally wrote it seven years ago.
So...
It’s so f*cking easy to break me down,
to tear me into thousands pieces,
to smash my hopes into the ground
just when I though it could be different.
So f*cking easy to make me small,
to make me even disappear,
to step into me brave and bold
while I’m trembling in fear.
So f*cking easy to say you sorry
when you know I will forgive
and then to say our love is glory.
But it is suicide for me.
So f*cking difficult to leave you…
Is it a sickness or despair?
I know you’re lying and I still believe you.
I can’t even imagine you’re not there.
Or may be it is what I need,
may be I’m more twisted than you
I push your buttons to the limit
just to check what I’ll make you do.
So...
It’s so f*cking easy to break me down,
to tear me into thousands pieces,
to smash my hopes into the ground
just when I though it could be different.
So f*cking easy to make me small,
to make me even disappear,
to step into me brave and bold
while I’m trembling in fear.
So f*cking easy to say you sorry
when you know I will forgive
and then to say our love is glory.
But it is suicide for me.
So f*cking difficult to leave you…
Is it a sickness or despair?
I know you’re lying and I still believe you.
I can’t even imagine you’re not there.
Or may be it is what I need,
may be I’m more twisted than you
I push your buttons to the limit
just to check what I’ll make you do.