TressaMarie2005

Please, trust me... I don't think I can. * Don't ever leave me. How could I? * Why can't you trust me? Because I know what you did. * Thank you. You know you don't need to thank me. * What did I do? You know full well what. * Why don't I need to thank you? Because I love you. * Sorry, but I don't. You and her! You and her! * I love you too. I know you do. * A silence. I'm right? Aren't I? * And I trust you. With my life. I'll look after it. * How did you guess....? Because I love you more than you loved me. * Promise? Promise. * I think we're over. I know.

"Hey, are you alright...?" Strong, comforting but sweet words. "No," The other sobbed pitifully. Hot tears scalded cold, lonely cheeks. A quick frown, before composure, "Then let me hold you." "But you can't!" The voice would have been sharp, but it was muffled by tears. "Why ever not?" "Because they all say you can't!" "Well, since when have we listened to them?" It was said softy, but profoundly. There was meaning behind the sentence. "I love you..." "I know you do," And the speaker walked forward and hugged the other. Together, the pair kissed. Sweet, salty tears flavoured their lips. Because it doesn't matter what other people sa

You've been on my mind a lot recently. So yeah, I really wouldn't mind if you would just piss off it. Did you hear that? Go away. Go away now. Go away please. I've been rehearsing this conversation with you, in my head, over and over. I know exactly what you're going to say, how you're going to react.  Hear that? You, my friend, are predictable. The one thing you hate the most. Predictability. Only you're not speaking to me at all now, are you? Maybe if you would just listen to me then it would all be okay. Perhaps I'd stop thinking about you. And then we could both move on to different lives. Okay, I miss your brown eyes. I miss the

A long time ago, in a place that wasn't like today, there lived a girl who wasn't like other girls. She didn't look like them, think like them or act like them.                        Because she had a dream that would never be.                 The other girls didn't understand this. They didn't understand her. All of their narrow-minded dreams were centred on boys, celebrities and makeup.                This meant the girl with the real dream couldn't understand them either.       One day the other girls turned on her and called her names, called her fat and ugly. Every single person the dreaming girl had previously believed to be