Why Is It?

May 13, 2012
By Anonymous

The last time you decided to speak to me was last week.
Is there a reason for that?
Tell me.
What is it?
I love you so dearly.
Or at least, that’s what I thought.
I thought you loved me back.
But… I guess I was wrong.
A little birdie told me,
That you flew off,
To another’s girl’s nest,
And took her heart.
You still have mine. Why is that?
You still have my heart,
And I want it back.
So many other boys,
I could give my heart to,
So many other boys,
But I chose you.
So many girls,
Why me?
So many girls,
I am lost in the sea.
You are standing here,
In front of me.
What is in your hand that I see?
My heart, slowly dying of sadness.
My heart, I can’t feel it pounding.
Why is it,
That you chose me.
Why is it,
You decided to kill me.

The author's comments:
I wrote this piece because I've seen how different boys have hurt my best friends and I just decided to let out how I feel. I don't like telling my feelings to people and my teacher told us the other day in class "If you don't want to tell people it's OK. Just let it out. Write a story, poetry, anything. You can even burn it afterwards. Just know that the world wouldn't be the same without your art."

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