Love and pain

“I love the sound of rain” she said
“It’s music to my ears”
Yet when thunder claps and lightning strikes
She hides; the sound of it she fears

“I love the glow of candle light
The flickering shade it casts”
She puts it on a crystal stand
For the heat, she says, gives her fright

Flowers beneath her window sills
The blooms she likes to see
But the glass stays firmly shut and locked
As there might be a wandering bee

Subtle and soft, sweet and pure
Is all that she is, and fair
But try as she might to tame my soul
And extend her love and care
I refuse to let her close enough
For she thinks I’m all bloom and rain
But inside, I’m thunderstorm and scorching flame
And to me, love is less joy and more of pain

Written by justateenagegirl


Keeping track

Somethings don’t change. Time goes on, life goes on, people go on. It’s like when you stare out of the window of a moving train. Everything keeps slipping past, before you have a chance to register what’s going on. It appears as if the world is moving past you, even though it’s you who are moving past the world. However, somethings, like the blue board with white letters that shows each station, remain consistent. Yes, the letters have changed, but the structure is the same. It forms a consistent pattern. The things that don’t change, or rather, change in a consistent way, help you keep track in the midst of all the blur.

written by justateenagegirl