Play the Game

I was alone downstairs

sittin' on a chair

drying up my hair

feet up, without a care.

Munching on marshmallows

watching an MTV show

VJ said, T.Swift is to follow

late at night, so hollow.

She talked about men

how a love could mend

and break and burn and end

and watched it begin again.

Lucky are those women

who could start all over again

I mean who wouldn't

wanna let go of the burden.

Some may choose to continue walking

barely breathing

surviving but not living

they believe it is still worth fighting.

Some became scared of the flame

but who are we to blame?

Pain is part of the game

even if you didn't mean it as you claim.

So if someone choose to stay

or seek new love like a needle in a stack of hay

or be on the safe side just to feel okay

it's everyone's decision how they'll play. -C

 

Apple of the Eyes

              This is new to me. I was never the favorite. I was always the forgotten one. Either that or everyone hates me. That's what I thought. I was either quiet, sarcastic or intimidating. I was never approachable and friendly. But this, this is very alien to me. I'm not sure if I like it because I don't like too much attention. But I'm pretty sure I don't hate it. I'm just worried that more people will hate me because I am someone's apple of the eyes. It's human nature.

               I cannot tell the exact time and moment that this thing started happening to me but I can tell you that it was after I was no longer my Mom's favorite. I mean, I will always be her favorite but she's not here with me anymore to show that to me. So I think everything is happening because of her. I think this is her way of showing me that there is someone who still cares. That I am not alone. That that someone may not be her but she made sure that there is somebody. Or I guess this my own twisted way of thinking that she is still here with me, taking care of me, supporting me. -C