Don't you just hate that?
That you can only talk through chat,
That his love for you seems to subtract,
And you can feel your heart crack.
Don't you just love it?
When he's like you—a misfit,
When you imagine the day he'll pay again a visit,
But wait, can he really keep a secret?
My past and my present,
Guaranteed an awful event,
How I wish for all of it to end,
So I can stop trying to pretend.
Seeing people with their last breaths,
Seeing people with secrets to suppress,
Seeing the earth do no progress,
I hate recalling them, it gives me stress.
One memory long ago—vivid but fresh,
Kidnapped and placed beside rotting flesh,
Couldn't guess whether it's an animal's or human's instead,
The place was quite a mess.
Wounded physically and emotionally,
Felt goosebumps when I heard someone call me, "Honey"
Visions blurring but I saw a group of three,
Thank God, it was the police trying to save me.
Then I was in an old orphanage,
With a friend—one male teenage,
Befriended and made me porridge,
And our relationship was about to go to the next page.
Innocent but kind was his soul,
Adopted by a couple—both thin and tall,
Left me physically but everyday he calls,
He was my one and only wonderwall.
He doesn't know that I have this ability,
That I can recall every detail of a memory,
Just hold my hand if you want to see,
Let me show you, but don't you dare to flee.
©PeculiarPat34
Wonderwall;
Someone you find yourself thinking about all the time, the person you are completely infactuated with.
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Peculiar Stories Untold
PoetryGood day, peculiar! PeculiarPat34, delighted to meet you! In this book of poems, I had recorded some-both the living and the dead-peculiars all over the world. Seek and gain the knowledge of certain peculiars and their history through this material...
