Delicate Wings

The age-old feeling of unrequited love. This is something I wrote when I was going through the horrible thing myself. Enjoy!

There's no mistaking that it started,

It's stopping it that's the problem.

That fluttery feeling, budding love deep in my stomach,

Like minute butterflies are brushing the edges with their delicate wings.


Kiss me, and I'll stop pretending to be somebody else to enjoy it all the more.

Kiss me, and make me believe that it's not all a dream.


Is it returned, the feeling of those delicate wings?

Will the question ever be answered?

Or will I be in the dark forever, waiting and wondering,

My only company, the feeling of delicate wings?


Hold me, and take me to a world we've never been.

Hold me, and show me that you love me in the same way I love you.


The beginning seemed so long ago, too long for my liking.

Where are you?  Where've you been?

I tried to stop it, I thought choosing another would work,

Obviously not.


Call me and let me know that you know I still exist.

Call me and stop me from thinking I'm not important to you.


I haven't seen you for a while, another girl is on your arm,

She's pretty. You always pick the pretty ones.

You look happy with her, and she looks happy with you,

Those delicate wings turn to jagged, burning knives.


Remember me, when you're kissing and holding someone else.

Remember me, when another girl loves you the same way I do.

The End

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