Manipulation

So how could you call me a liar?
When all I ever aspired to do was to be what you desired…just what you desired. I told you all my deepest secrets all my darkest fears. I held your hand and kissed you through the pain and through the tears. I only lived to love you. I hope that this has given you a fit of guilty sensation. To bad that all you ever were was an easy manipulation.

Answers to random questions that my teacher asked.

If red were a person he would love blood.
Anxiety would wear white running shoes.
Jealousy eats your fears for breakfast.
Fear lives in the the minds of those who are afraid.
If blue were a thief he would steal happiness to balance out all of his sadness.
If pink were a singer she would sing pop music.
If olive green were a singer he would have a low country voice.
Truth tastes bitter with a sweet after taste.

My Sestina

It’s hard to imagine.
The feelings I am having of pain.
And love.
The contradiction.
I wonder about it’s purpose.
Or if it even has one.

Does any one,
Know how to imagine?
Is it plausible, does it have a purpose?
Imagining, it only causes pain.
But it’s a conflicting contradiction
That also brings love.

Pain and love.
I have just one
Question about this contradiction.
Is it okay to imagine
Suffering being part of both love and pain.
Or does that not have a purpose?

Because if it has a purpose
To suffer because of love
And to suffer because of pain.
Are there people or even just one
Who can imagine
What it must feel like; this contradiction.

Because this contradiction
Might have a purpose
To show that you can imagine
Suffering through love.
And see a person; just one
Who suffers through both love and pain

So when you feel that pain.
The pain of the splitting contradiction.
And you see that person; just one.
Who fulfilled their purpose
Of suffering through the pain and through the love
Of what they used to imagine.

Let your pain be your purpose.
Trust he contradiction with love.
And be that one person who continues to imagine.

Remember

I remember the day we first met and
I remember the first time he held my hand and
I remember the words he uses when he asked me to be his and
I remember our first kiss more than anything because it was perfect and
I remember when he first told me he loved me and
I remember when he met my parents and
I remember when he gave me his sweater and
I remember his telephone number and
I remember all three of his middle names and
I remember every detail of his perfect face and
I remember all the times he has held me and
I remember....because I could never forget.