Categories > Original > Poetry
You Don't Love Me
4 Reviewsuh...i wrote it about my best friend since kindergarden...and uh...im a bit scared to put it up O_O
You Don’t Love Me.
(A poem about Sydni Rene Copeland. Finished 1 am on Thursday, June 28, 2012. Unedited. Written by Annaleigha Francis Izabella Lubbers (Called Izzy). They have been best friends since kindergarden...)
You don't love me.
You don’t love me when I say something stupid, and then you get mad but act like every thing’s fine.
You don’t love me.
You don’t love me when I’m an idiot and mess up, you tell me I’m stupid but then act like its a joke, because you don’t know how much it hurt.
You don’t love me.
You don’t love me when I fuck up with you, and then do anything and everything to fix it, but I know that behind those smiling eyes you’re tallying up, counting every time I mess up against me. And I know that one day it’ll be too much, and you’ll leave without a backward glance, leaving me broken and crazy without you.
You don’t love me.
You don’t love me when you don’t talk to me until I BEG you to, and I don’t leave you alone for days because I can’t live without you, no matter how hard I try or how much I pretend to.
You don’t love me.
You don’t love me when your other friend show up, the popular, cool people I’ll never be apart of. You forget all about me as soon as there’s someone else around to entertain you. You don’t even bother to make sure I’m okay before you head off with your new friends.
You don’t love me.
You don’t love me when I tell you I love you, when I look at you and I mean it with every ounce of me, with everything I have. Because I really love you.
You don’t love me.
But I love you.
I love your ever-changing hair color and your random outbursts. Your vibrant eyes and the absolutely gorgeous way you smile. Everything about you, the way you dance so awkwardly, the way you blush at the mere mention of someone you like.
I love you.
I love the way you’ll pretend to get mad at the people you really love, but confide in only me the hurt you truly feel. I love the way you always know how to make me feel better, how you know everything about me. No matter what, I always make sure you know you can come to me with everything, even though you don’t always.
I love you.
I love the way you’re so into music, with all your heart and soul. The way you’ll do things without thinking about them or planning them out. I love your Poke’mon obsession, and I could listen to your stories about your family and many adventures with stupid things for hours. Fuck, I could listen to the sound of your voice for hours.
I love you.
I love the stupid faces you pull, and how you put up with my strange obsessions with things like Psychopaths, serial killers, Gerard Way, and Mary Bell. The way you pretend not to hate me for babbling when I’m tired, for putting up with my strange musings about the world at random hours. The way you pretend not to be freaked out about my obsession with fire and death.
I love you.
I love the way you make everything so much more fun. How you make anything better by just being you. How you say “supreme!” without really knowing what it means, because you heard Jenny say it.
I love you. And because of that, I hate some things.
I hate seeing you with anyone else, because I know you don’t want that with me.
I hate the way you hurt. The way you go from person to person, thinking you love them and then you get hurt, and I’m just hoping and praying that you’ll realize that I’d never hurt you, that I know I love you, and that I could never hurt you if I tried.
Because I love you.
but love hurts.
It hurts when I tell you that I love you, that I really genuinely love you and you shrug it off and say it doesn’t mean anything. It hurts when you get so mad at me, but I can’t do anything to make it better.
Love hurts.
It hurts to see you happy with someone else, anyone else, because I know we’ll never have that. And it hurts when you see me hurt, when you know I’m hurt over something, but you figure I’ll be okay.
Because I have to be okay.
I have to be the strong one, the one who’s there for you when things go bad. I have to be your support, and all of your friend’s support. Because I’m the strong one.
Except I’m not strong.
I’m not strong when I cry when no one’s around, because I’ve finally gained the ability after years of hurt. I’m not strong when I hide the secret scars, when I don’t eat as much as I should because I “forget”.
I’m not strong.
I’m not strong. I have to be okay for you when you’re not okay. And you’re never okay. I can see it in your eyes, your gorgeous eyes that are hiding the pain, the pain I wish I could erase so simply, just like everyone else thinks I can. But I can’t, no matter how much I love you. And I do love you, more than Romeo loves Juliet (because their love never died even though they did). But you don’t love me. You can fake it all you want darling’, but it ain’t gonna change.
But I’ll be okay, because I always am.
Even though I’m not.
I do love you.
But you will never love me
And I’ll never be good enough…
...And I’m sorry.
~Izzy
A/N ohmygod guys, I was so scared to put this up, I thought it was the biggest piece of shit I'd ever written. But your reviews.....Thank you guys :D They make me feel so special. :heart:
xxIzzy
(A poem about Sydni Rene Copeland. Finished 1 am on Thursday, June 28, 2012. Unedited. Written by Annaleigha Francis Izabella Lubbers (Called Izzy). They have been best friends since kindergarden...)
You don't love me.
You don’t love me when I say something stupid, and then you get mad but act like every thing’s fine.
You don’t love me.
You don’t love me when I’m an idiot and mess up, you tell me I’m stupid but then act like its a joke, because you don’t know how much it hurt.
You don’t love me.
You don’t love me when I fuck up with you, and then do anything and everything to fix it, but I know that behind those smiling eyes you’re tallying up, counting every time I mess up against me. And I know that one day it’ll be too much, and you’ll leave without a backward glance, leaving me broken and crazy without you.
You don’t love me.
You don’t love me when you don’t talk to me until I BEG you to, and I don’t leave you alone for days because I can’t live without you, no matter how hard I try or how much I pretend to.
You don’t love me.
You don’t love me when your other friend show up, the popular, cool people I’ll never be apart of. You forget all about me as soon as there’s someone else around to entertain you. You don’t even bother to make sure I’m okay before you head off with your new friends.
You don’t love me.
You don’t love me when I tell you I love you, when I look at you and I mean it with every ounce of me, with everything I have. Because I really love you.
You don’t love me.
But I love you.
I love your ever-changing hair color and your random outbursts. Your vibrant eyes and the absolutely gorgeous way you smile. Everything about you, the way you dance so awkwardly, the way you blush at the mere mention of someone you like.
I love you.
I love the way you’ll pretend to get mad at the people you really love, but confide in only me the hurt you truly feel. I love the way you always know how to make me feel better, how you know everything about me. No matter what, I always make sure you know you can come to me with everything, even though you don’t always.
I love you.
I love the way you’re so into music, with all your heart and soul. The way you’ll do things without thinking about them or planning them out. I love your Poke’mon obsession, and I could listen to your stories about your family and many adventures with stupid things for hours. Fuck, I could listen to the sound of your voice for hours.
I love you.
I love the stupid faces you pull, and how you put up with my strange obsessions with things like Psychopaths, serial killers, Gerard Way, and Mary Bell. The way you pretend not to hate me for babbling when I’m tired, for putting up with my strange musings about the world at random hours. The way you pretend not to be freaked out about my obsession with fire and death.
I love you.
I love the way you make everything so much more fun. How you make anything better by just being you. How you say “supreme!” without really knowing what it means, because you heard Jenny say it.
I love you. And because of that, I hate some things.
I hate seeing you with anyone else, because I know you don’t want that with me.
I hate the way you hurt. The way you go from person to person, thinking you love them and then you get hurt, and I’m just hoping and praying that you’ll realize that I’d never hurt you, that I know I love you, and that I could never hurt you if I tried.
Because I love you.
but love hurts.
It hurts when I tell you that I love you, that I really genuinely love you and you shrug it off and say it doesn’t mean anything. It hurts when you get so mad at me, but I can’t do anything to make it better.
Love hurts.
It hurts to see you happy with someone else, anyone else, because I know we’ll never have that. And it hurts when you see me hurt, when you know I’m hurt over something, but you figure I’ll be okay.
Because I have to be okay.
I have to be the strong one, the one who’s there for you when things go bad. I have to be your support, and all of your friend’s support. Because I’m the strong one.
Except I’m not strong.
I’m not strong when I cry when no one’s around, because I’ve finally gained the ability after years of hurt. I’m not strong when I hide the secret scars, when I don’t eat as much as I should because I “forget”.
I’m not strong.
I’m not strong. I have to be okay for you when you’re not okay. And you’re never okay. I can see it in your eyes, your gorgeous eyes that are hiding the pain, the pain I wish I could erase so simply, just like everyone else thinks I can. But I can’t, no matter how much I love you. And I do love you, more than Romeo loves Juliet (because their love never died even though they did). But you don’t love me. You can fake it all you want darling’, but it ain’t gonna change.
But I’ll be okay, because I always am.
Even though I’m not.
I do love you.
But you will never love me
And I’ll never be good enough…
...And I’m sorry.
~Izzy
A/N ohmygod guys, I was so scared to put this up, I thought it was the biggest piece of shit I'd ever written. But your reviews.....Thank you guys :D They make me feel so special. :heart:
xxIzzy
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