I have the scary feeling
That we aren't going to last,
That all the memories and this happiness
Will be stuck long in the past.
...
Like misanthropes, we hide
Away from the troubles
And cares of this god-forsaken world.
...
Occasionally, I give living a chance.
I try to laugh at jokes
And try striving
Toward a common goal.
...
The razor dances on her palm,
Taunts her with it's cruel remarks.
'It'll be quick,
Just one more time, ' she reminds herself.
...
It hurts me too, you know.
Every lie,
Every time you don't tell me,
Every delicate red line you engrave on you thigh.
...
I'm Anna. I live in Minnesota, USA. I write overly dramatic poetry, a lot of the time when I'm upset about something or that particular subject is on my mind. I'm always coated in black clothing, because of this, most people at my school are afraid to speak to me. (That, and i threaten to kill them...) You should speak to me, though. I'm actually fairly nice.)
In Case We Don'T Last
I have the scary feeling
That we aren't going to last,
That all the memories and this happiness
Will be stuck long in the past.
So if you see me ten years from now,
Whether coffee shop or book store,
Don't speak to me.
I won't want you, I won't want more.
Don't, please don't remind me
Of all we've done together.
Please, please
Don't remind me how we promised each other forever.
Don't tell me of the galleries you've recently opened,
Or ask how I've been.
Because, honestly dear,
I won't be able to answer, I fear.
You'll have the world at your feet,
And a bright, bright future.
And I hope it's fully reached
With all its wonderful features.
I'll end up washed up,
Before I'm even twenty.
Whereas you're going to go far,
With your dreams aplenty.
Please, please dear,
Don't make me hate you.
And I will,
If you don't leave us be.
Take your stupid guitar,
And that freaking amazing smile,
And run far, far away.
Leave. Run for miles.
I promise I won't want to see you.
I won't want anymore.
You know,
You know it's true.
So please, please don't speak to me,
In a few years,
If our paths do cross.
Please, please, love. Let it be my loss.