Bittersweet Memories | Teen Ink

Bittersweet Memories

January 25, 2013
By DoctorsCompanion BRONZE, Spencer, New York
DoctorsCompanion BRONZE, Spencer, New York
2 articles 0 photos 1 comment

Favorite Quote:
'This is my Timey-Wimey detector. It goes ping when there's stuff."


Bitter sorrows,
Break free...
I can see you but can you see,
Me?
I stare at your face, but all I,
See...
Is this plastic screen,
Condemning me..

This anguish deep in the heart.
Right from the start,
I felt you here.
And I hate when you feel so near,
'Cause I still can't hear,
A thing you say...
And I swear to god,
We won't be apart for much longer,
Just stand stronger.
Before,
Bittersweet memories,
Swallow...
Me.

Your face,
Unmoving.
Your lips, not,
Breathing.
Your skin,
So.. Chilling.
In my eyes, such...
Longing.
These bitter joys, are all,
That I have.
But what I need..
Is to,
Hear you,
Speak!

This anguish deep in the heart.
Right from the start,
I felt you here.
And I hate when you feel so near,
'Cause I still can't hear,
A thing you say...
And I swear to god,
We won't be apart for much longer,
Just stand stronger.
Before,
Bittersweet memories,
Swallow...
Me.

I stand before you,
On my knees.
And I can feel,
The,
Longing!
You stand before me,
Begging,
Please!
But I can't do, a single thing!
The bittersweet,
Is killing me!

This anguish deep in the heart.
Right from the start,
I felt you here.
And I hate when you feel so near,
'Cause I still can't hear,
A thing you say...
And I swear to god,
We won't be apart for much longer,
Just stand stronger.
Before,
Bittersweet memories,
Swallow...
Me!
They'll swallow,
Me...
They've swallowed,
Me.



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This article has 2 comments.


on Jan. 29 2013 at 8:55 pm
DoctorsCompanion BRONZE, Spencer, New York
2 articles 0 photos 1 comment

Favorite Quote:
'This is my Timey-Wimey detector. It goes ping when there's stuff."

Song, not poem. That's why it's in song lyrics. And don't critisize if it isnt helpful.

on Jan. 29 2013 at 9:50 am
Joseph Seamster, Danville, Virginia
0 articles 0 photos 4 comments
this poel was beautiful...   if helen  keller was the reader