Theme

Display Mature Content

Suppress AI Content

literature

I'm afraid of losing you.

Deviation Actions

GentlePeace

Published: Dec 20, 2012

5K Views

Literature Text

I don’t know if you feel it too, the feeling of wanting to break loose
And just screaming “I love you” but I’m scared that we might lose
Because just of our age, or the time, or any person that doesn’t want you to be mine
But I know that if this goes wrong I’d be the one who'd cause the crime

I’m a bit afraid; one false move would make everything go away
And I’m always left wondering if what I’m doing is okay
I just want everything to be alright between you and me
Or is there something that I cannot see?

My head is rambling with questions that fear is inventing
Maybe is not fear, maybe it’s because I’m too caring
Am I paranoid? I don’t want to make a mistake
You said I’m doing things right, then why do I always shake?

More by GentlePeace

Literature

A spooky tree story (Working tittle?)

With a gust that flowed through each leaf, I could hear the aged crackles from its foliage, before they would snap off and fall onto the floor. Its crown branching out through the cracks in the ceiling, barely letting light shed unto the room. Although the floor tiles beneath me are pristine, as I approach the tree I noticed the tiles worsen the closer I got, until there’s only dirt and gravel. All I could hear is the crumbling leaves and tiles with each step. Then, I heard raspy breathing, as if someone was trying to get their last breath, over and over again. When I got to the tree, I could see carvings of grim faces and swirls c

Recommended Literature

Literature

I've Changed (Yeah right)

I've Changed (Yeah right): You know, I tell myself everday, That I'm going to change - that I'll be different. 'This isn't the same; I'm not the same,' that's what I tell myself... As I sit in front of the computer, praying time doesn't move. Coward, you're weak and you'll always be weak! You bloody disgrace... I pick up some new magazine, get inspired, 'I want to be like that guy,' is what I think to myself. I give it a try for two or three days - I quit. Same old shit again... Making up excuses? It's what you always do, you gutless wonder... I try to reach out with my hands, Seeking something, anything that I can find to help myself ho

Literature

Love

Love is when somebody gives you a shoulder to cry on. Love is when somebody makes you laugh when you're sad. Love is when you miss somebody whenever they are gone. Love is when whenever you see that person you feel glad. Loving somebody is choosing not to see their flaws. A human being will never be perfect. Everything that person does you will give a loud applause. Cause in your eyes everything that person does is correct. You want them to smile. You would work extra just to be with that person. Even if it would be just for a while. Love is unconditional, that's the truth.

Literature

R.I.P Words

Do you know what it feels like? To feel something, but... be unable to express what it is; to be silent; to fight it alone. I know how much it hurts, but I don't know how to show it. Poetry used to be my refuge, a place where I could be alone - express all my emotions, without being judged. I'm losing it. I can't connect to poetry. Everything sounds so stupid... Everything I write sounds stupid. I have to erase all my feelings, because they don't sound right. The words aren't real. They don't show what I feel And maybe this will be the last. Maybe I'm gone: lost of all emotions. I'm truly alone... I used to have poetry. Now I have not

Suggested Collections

Poetry

Literature

I Am The Ghost

I am the ghost that walks these halls, The noises you hear behind the walls, The swirls and eddies that chill the air, The squeaks and creaks upon the stairs. I am the presence that makes your skin crawl. I come in the night when the darkness falls. Black is my colour, and black are my calls, Black are the shadows I always wear. I am the ghost. I am the thoughts you don't want to recall, The ones you recoil from, shocked and appalled. I am all of your secret fears and despairs, Every anxious thought, every burden you bear. I am the you that scrawls all over these walls - I am the ghost.

Literature

Gender Binary

Recently I realised I wasn’t a proper woman. Everything that was taken for granted as being female, didn’t seem to fit. But at the same time I didn’t completely identify with the idea of a “typical” male. I appreciate that these are just stereotypes, but there’s truth in stereotypes. I have decided I am biologically female but essentially..have no gender. This might be hard for you to understand, it was definitely hard for some people to understand when I’d talked about it to them! It never dawned on me that “the average person” never wondered about what it would be like to be the opposite gender,

Literature

Anonymous

I am the girl who hides between moth eaten paper backs And slips into bookstores and devours leather bound spines I am chloroform lips bitten down, red and rosy Ink stained finger tips that fold book pages between my pupils I'm the girl who drowns herself in coffee and cough drops While remaining curled between Tennyson and Steinbeck Wasting days wondering why grass is green And how it can be greener for others and not I Then I realized its all artificial food colouring And polystyrene picket fences Sticky notes yellowed at the edges reminding myself how to smile I've pasted them on my skin in makeshift paper Mache armour But l

Poems

Literature

The Cycle

Here I am again, aching. My heart pounds to my ribs, my lungs squeezing, my chest tightening, hoarding my tears. When I couldn't take it anymore, I'll run back to your safety (cause I don't feel safe with me); a safe haven that I know wouldn't last - a comfort and joy that's temporary. When everything starts crashing, I'll run back to myself again - trying to recover, thinking that I'm healing - then the aching begins again. It's a cycle; it keeps on repeating.

Literature

Look

Sadness In my eyes Scars All over me Are hidden In plain sight For you to see If you dare To take a closer look

Literature

Reasons and love

Love the one you can't stop [thinking about Like there's no [tomorrow, And let that become [your reason to live

Favourite poetry

Literature

Is that too much to ask?

There was a new boy at school. He sat in the back, all alone. The teacher was doing roll call. "Jessica?" The boy froze. "..Jessica? Is she here today?" The boy raised his hand shakily and muttered quietly, almost scared. "Here." What sort of name was that for a boy? Jessica? She must be a girl, then. At lunch she was alone, crying. Why was she crying? Because everything felt so wrong. Her name didn't fit her. Her body didn't fit her. She was a boy on the inside. Why was she a girl on the outside? She truly thought it was to torture her. So she scarred the body she hated, as if it would do any good

Literature

Pass

"Dude.. You're a girl!" His words shot through me like a jolt of electricity. Did he just say what I think he did? He did, didn't it? I analyze my situation quickly. What happened exactly? My mind feels hazy and it takes me a few seconds to recall. I was trying to enjoy a walk through the park with my friends when Hilda clumsily spilled her soda on me. My shirt was soaked but Hilbert offered to take me home to change. He had offerred his jacket to me.. After that we rushed home, I went to my room and he came into my room. Did he want his jacket back? I guess he does. He's standing in front of me, head turned, blushing furiously. It takes

Literature

Trangst Poem - FTM

The girl who never was and the boy who cannot be. A face unknown. Hollow, Lacking, Vacant. It stares. Bones grow out of place, Bulging, twisting, breaking up straight lines. Blood follows, a screaming pain that cannot be subdued. It drips, smears, stains. Tainted. Confusion sets in. Mass hysteria? Cells divide and concur, an uncontrollable growth. The heart longs to love, but is trapped within a cage of bones and mounds of flesh. An unfamiliar home. The mirror reflects lies, which cannot be proven incorrect. Untrained eyes, cannot view the falsehood, of this perceived womanhood. I've grown tired of lying. And I've gro

Featured in Groups

Isn't this a bit personal? Yea, I think it is.
Though, few people could relate to the "I DUNNO WHAT I'M DOING, IS THIS RIGHT!?" thing.
Have you gone through something similar?
Thank you for reading! I'd like to know your opinion
(This isn't romantic, is it