Broken Melody

I keep listening to your song
The one that should’ve been mine
A melody which breaks my heart
And soothes my soul all at once

The lyrics mean so much to her
Exactly what you promised
Incarnated in rhythm and blues
Reminding her to stick it out

Whenever you hear your song
The one destined for me
It makes you think of sadder times

And the ring you bought for her.

 

Little Ginge x

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A Pretty Wife

You’d buy your wife for more than a pretty smile.
Or eyes that tell a thousand stories. Right?
Yes I agree, she looks lovely. Silence.

But wouldn’t you rather a wife who told a million jokes?
One for every occasion.
Who never held her tongue? Chatter.

No-one ever said it was fun to sit in silence
Except book readers and cat lovers

Buy a wife, not a mouse.

 

Little Ginge x

Old Friend

-This poem was not written to upset or cause offence to anyone, neither was it meant to harm or act as a trigger. Please feel free to use the information below if know someone who may benefit from it’s use.

http://www.suicide.org/international-suicide-hotlines.html

_______________________________________________________________

Dear Death,

Today I thought of you. I miss you, but we shouldn’t be together, people keep us apart for a reason. They tell me I have a purpose, I just need to find it. I think my purpose is to meet you. Let’s face it we were all born to die. Maybe I was born to do nothing more but make a friend that is shunned by most others. Spoken about in metaphors and rarely given their proper title. Please stay in touch.

Depressed.
Dear Death,

I’ve been told to stop writing to you, that I’ve formed an unhealthy obsession to our friendship. But it wouldn’t be a friendship if I didn’t value it, would it? They took away the blade you gave me, but it wasn’t their gift to take, don’t worry I’ll replace it. Keep writing.

Depressed.
Dear Death,

They tell me that I can’t be depressed, as I would feel numb if I were, but all I want to do is stop being a burden to everyone. Why do I feel ashamed to be desired by anyone? Feel my flesh crawl at the thought of their hands on my skin no matter how much I ache for that contact. I feel you have the answers, lets meet. Soon.

Depressed.
P.S. I’m on my way.

 

Little Ginge x

Wolf Hunt

The wolf for the girl who cried it
Is told that without bite marks
There is nothing they can do
And who’s to say it’ll be the right wolf
They all look the same, right?

The boy who cried wolf
Inspired torches and pitchforks
And was given a dark pelt to decorate with
But he said the wolf was white as snow

He was told quite simply, he was mistaken.

 

Little Ginge x