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Sweden*

Status: | Ann | Poet | Writer |

Member Since: 6 Jan 2012 02:02pm

Last Seen: 21 Aug 2019 04:40am

Location: Idris

Gender: F

user id: 260636

786 Quotes
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ANN | WRITER | POET

I'm Ann and I write poetry and books.
  1. Sweden* Sweden*
    posted a quote
    May 12, 2016 8:51pm EDT
    poem.
    "your naked body should only
    belong to those who fall in love with
    your naked soul."
    -Charlie Chaplin
    1) When you fell in love hard
    with a boy who had only
    lost his heart in a forest.
    He tells me, its my fault
    since, you make his heart caught
    in his lungs and hard to breathe.
    2) This boy is a lost boy, who
    ran away from a burning forest.
    Your mother warns me about the
    type of people who light fires-
    light fires and never come back
    to stop the fire from spreading.
    3) It was only sooner or later,
    he asks for the show of your
    body but there was so much that
    was not able to show. You gave
    him your elbow, lips and hands.
    4) He realizes that love from you
    is not as worth it since there are
    lost girls who would give their
    bodies just for moments of love.
    Only given at night, and awaken
    the sadness and emptiness.
    5) Sooner or later, he'll leave you.
    You know this because, every time
    you speak now, smoke come out of
    your mouth because the fire he left
    in your lungs seem to make it harder
    to breathe.
    6) The night before he leaves and acts
    as a stranger, you give him the last kiss.
    You get up and make breakfast as if,
    he'll even eat it. He doesn't. He left,
    without a goodbye.
    7) He does not sayanything anymore,
    as you both walk past each other.
    He is the type of person that light fires
    and it seem to never burn out, he was
    the one your mother warned about.
    8) Although, you want to grab his shirt.
    You stop yourself before you cut the
    hands you long before gave him.

  2. Sweden* Sweden*
    posted a quote
    February 17, 2016 9:27pm EST
    A poem to my mother about the arguement we just had.
    I am not perfect.
    Not a single speck in my soul was
    ever that perfect or innocent.
    I've grown to the harsh realities too
    early and you already know that.
    The exposure of the hatred and that
    single harsh reality brought a hole
    to my heart and though I never admit
    it, it does really hurt more than you
    believe.
    You believe that I think I am perfect,
    what part of me is perfect if those parts
    of me was already taken without a question?
    Consent was just as if it was an invitation
    that was never recieved that following day.
    There were a lot of days where I grew up,
    the day my mother, you left the house; I matured.
    When my own father asked a hug before he
    walked out on me the several months before
    my own birthday, no my birthday isn't on
    Canada's day (so why call me on that day?)
    yes I played with toys and such but everything
    changed that night.
    Because I wasn't an oblivious child anymore,
    I was a girl in grade 4 who was asked in grade 6
    by a girl who was my new friend who wondered
    what my father worked as.
    What part of me is perfect if I have a broken past
    which continues to bother me a lot til this day.
    I'm embarrassed, people who believe in perfection
    have a high confidence but I never did.
    The loudest laughter seems to be the fakest and
    so I laughed to blend in with the crowd so you'd
    never know that a laughing family has cheap
    wallpaper covering a hole in the wall of a room.
    A room which is my heart.
    So there you go, Mom.

  3. Sweden* Sweden*
    posted a quote
    February 13, 2016 2:40pm EST
    poem.
    it hurts.
    i don't know if i love you
    in this type of manner but,
    seeing you with her makes
    me feel as if i want to scream.
    we spent our days together
    dissing about her, she's the
    cheating ex and you tell me
    you love her and now i am
    the friend who said she'll
    support you til the end..
    i show you my past poems
    but this poem i won't show
    you because i think i fell
    in love with a person that
    i should have never fallen
    in love with in the first place..

  4. Sweden* Sweden*
    posted a quote
    February 4, 2016 9:46pm EST
    today she said goodbye,
    tomorrow i would end
    up on the sofa drunk on
    some alcohol and a tub
    of ice cream; my heart?
    gone.
    she took it when she left
    me, it's still in her
    posession.
    i don't think, i'll be okay.

  5. Sweden* Sweden*
    posted a quote
    January 24, 2016 11:12pm EST
    poem.
    In 10th grade a boy asked a girl out.
    She politely declines.
    He calls her a b//ch,w//re and etc.
    In 10th grade, she went through a
    decline of happines and the increase
    of the sadness because home is harsh.
    She picks up her mother after school,
    no, not at the program.
    She picks her mother up and puts her
    on the sofa, puts a blanket on her and
    throws the empty of whiskey into the
    recycling bin. Tonight, she'll be
    spending her end of the day cooking,
    and cleaning. Doing homework til 3 AM.
    Come to school with a smile because in
    10 grade when a girl smiles and no one
    knows.
    It's okay.

  6. Sweden* Sweden*
    posted a quote
    January 10, 2016 6:30pm EST
    so when she left you,
    did you feel hurt?
    i only ask this because,
    that's how you left me.
    in a world of everything broken.

  7. Sweden* Sweden*
    posted a quote
    December 27, 2015 5:33pm EST
    poem.
    when you broke my heart,
    you broke out an entire wild
    -fire throughout my heart to
    my lungs, i can still feel the
    fire in my veins when i feel the
    rush of blood whenever someone
    asks me if i am still yours or are
    you still mine because everyone
    saw us as a relationship goal but
    you told me i was a goal of a girlfriend
    but i was already yours and you were
    afraid of losing me when you had me.
    do you ever remember the day we had
    met? you told me i was beautiful as the
    moon and eyes twinkle in my eyes. i
    know it would be a cliche to say this but..
    i remember the day you left rather than
    the day we met, the sun refused to shine.
    but i knew when i met you my vocal chords
    shook like guitar strings after it has been played.
    you played my heart and so now i don't see
    any boy in the eye because i am afraid i
    would fall in love with their eyes just like you.
    why were you so afraid of losing me?
    i was always there 24/7 there for you,
    and you never thought a single day
    to be there for me except run away from me.
    you made me feel like a monster whenever
    i had seem to cry, you made me feel as if
    i was never yours and that you were never,
    even mine in the first place at all.

  8. Sweden* Sweden*
    posted a quote
    December 25, 2015 2:38am EST
    poem [no capitals intended]
    you are the love that came
    without warning; you had
    my heart before I could say no.
    i fell in love with the wrong type
    of love where i believed i could
    not live without you in this world.
    i spent nights crying over you,
    my birthday was spent stressfully
    i thought you did not love me like
    i did because there was a girl who
    could have been far more prettier
    who took your heart after you told
    me you loved me so much you cou
    -ld die, why did it seem so real?
    why did the nights talking to you
    felt the best i ever felt in years?
    why did i believe i needed you to
    live as who i am now?
    all you did was kill the person who
    i was in me.

  9. Sweden* Sweden*
    posted a quote
    December 25, 2015 2:38am EST
    poem [no capitals intended]
    you are the love that came
    without warning; you had
    my heart before I could say no.
    i fell in love with the wrong type
    of love where i believed i could
    not live without you in this world.
    i spent nights crying over you,
    my birthday was spent stressfully
    i thought you did not love me like
    i did because there was a girl who
    could have been far more prettier
    who took your heart after you told
    me you loved me so much you cou
    -ld die, why did it seem so real?
    why did the nights talking to you
    felt the best i ever felt in years?
    why did i believe i needed you to
    live as who i am now?
    all you did was kill the person who
    i was in me.

  10. Sweden* Sweden*
    posted a quote
    December 23, 2015 11:33pm EST
    poem. [no capitals intended]
    at night, cities never sleep.
    there stands a girl and a boy,
    at the roof top screaming at
    the top of their lungs, hoping
    that someone would notice.
    notice their pain swept under
    the rug of their cuts and dirt
    in their finger tips, there lies
    the nightly scent in their shirts
    tears can be only seen when the
    street lights hovers their heads.
    maybe they both know each other
    too much to the point that they
    know they can never love each other.
    no one loves broken things, but
    inside they love each other so
    tonight they scream at the top of
    their lungs of the pain locked inside.
    because to them, no one can love
    with a broken heart can they?
    **
    [sorry for not updating as much! i just started high school and gotten obsessed with k-pop band: BTS]

  11. Sweden* Sweden*
    posted a quote
    November 19, 2015 9:44pm EST
    Drabble.
    The Moon was always a lonely man. He could
    never remember a day where a person was there.
    A Star was there at times but to only leave him for
    the Sun. Everyone loved the Sun because she was
    the light of their world, the things that make life
    living. He loved her and thought she loved him.
    At times, he would close his eyse and remember
    the warmth of the girl in his arms. Only for her
    to leave him alone again, his chest feels hollow
    and parts of his black hair would cover his eyes.
    But lately, there was a girl who spent her nights
    with her ukelele singing to the moon or speaking
    to the moon as if he could hear her, he could hear
    her. Her voice sounded gentle, the Moon never
    knew he would feel this moment. He wanted to
    spend his lifetime with her, but a human a person
    so strange can't be together forever since a human
    can't live forever.
    He called her Love because she brought the warmth
    in his body back and the holloweness is no longer
    there. He's been looking for someone to love and some
    -one to love him back. They may never be together,
    but their souls will always be together.
    The moon always was a lonley man until he met Love.

  12. Sweden* Sweden*
    posted a quote
    November 9, 2015 6:12pm EST
    Poem.
    Beginning,Middle and Ending of a love story.
    Beginning.
    Sometimes when love grows,
    it grows like lines of a poem
    of the day where they first met,
    til the night where it marked
    their gravestones.
    It's like wearing tight shoes or
    high heels to impress someone,
    it's morning soon and you have
    bruised feet yet you want to run
    behind the butterflies and stars.
    Middle.
    You found your pride caught stuck in
    your throat and you can't breathe any
    -more, there's a forest fire in your lungs.
    Those butterflies that you loved are wasps.
    Your ribcages can't hold a heavy broken
    heart like when they held you until morning.
    You wore your heart on your sleeve, told them
    that your heart was the size of your fist that
    never learned to love itself until you met them.
    Today was the day when they both realized..
    Ending of the love story.
    That their worlds collided together, eyes closed
    tight, you hope to yourself that you'd grow old
    with them and that they'd tell you how come
    their scars look like continents in the world.
    It seems there was a trap door out of the love
    as if they pulled a Charlie Chaplin on you and
    they left you with bruised feet and a sleeve
    that doesn't look as good anymore as they seem.
    Sometimes when love dies like a polaroid
    photograph loses it's colour and their love
    is just tainted with sadness.
    Sometimes when love dies,
    so does the lies.

  13. Sweden* Sweden*
    posted a quote
    November 7, 2015 6:37pm EST
    Poem.
    You were my friend.
    Now we are enemies,
    with words held up
    against our throat as
    a threat, you were never a
    forgiving person, you were
    stuck in the past and I assum
    -ed I could be a time traveler
    and bring you back to the pre
    -sent with everyone again. At
    times, some people don't want
    to be helped or saved.
    Maybe, we were just two different
    people with different mind sets
    on things and you believe that I
    would only hurt you and your new
    friend and I am not like that.

  14. Sweden* Sweden*
    posted a quote
    November 3, 2015 8:28pm EST
    D r a b b l e.
    When we were younger, you loved the stories of the
    knights, damsel in distress and the dragons who wo
    -uld be killed later on. Maybe I often wondered if I
    could had been the princess, somehow now you're
    the villian in the story books. The dragon, that puffs
    out smoke; I watch you pull the ciggerette out of your
    mouth and your exhaling the puff of smoke out. My
    legs are tangled between the sheets and you were
    just laying there beside me still. I've loved many thin
    -gs but it doesn't change the fact, I love somebody who
    doesen't love me. Maybe our love was false, but it felt
    real and was there for the breif minute. It was an illusion.
    You knew, I loved magicians and so facinated by those
    little details and things. Maybe that false love was the best
    moments of my life or just the night for you to talk about.
    When we grow older, I dream days with you and now
    it seems that it isn't quite as real as I thought.

  15. Sweden* Sweden*
    posted a quote
    November 2, 2015 6:49pm EST
    Poem.
    If she ever asks you..
    If she ever asks you who
    I was, tell her. Tell her
    that I was just the friend.
    As if our history never
    was loved tied with red
    string into a knot, as if
    I was never tongue tied
    when I first met you.
    Tell her when you first
    met that I never was pretty,
    so she wouldn't glare at me
    in the raw emotions of envy
    and jealousy wrapped in
    engima because it was so
    puzzling to find it under
    such a pretty smile of a girl.
    Tell her our lives was crossed
    with hate and never with love.
    So the fires wouldn't burn me
    again as you tell her I was the ex.
    Don't you ever tell her how our
    lips made poetry, how the words
    will only sink into her skin as if
    there sharp knives were meant
    to always have been there.
    Instead tell her, how every freckle
    on her cheek is like a kiss from an
    angel, how stars are made in the
    universe, tell her, her eyes are
    like pools of water and it's so
    tempting since she is so beautiful
    like a siren that you're is willing to
    drown just for her, she will fill in
    the holes and replace my scent off
    your coats and shirts, she'll know.
    She'll know who I was because,
    she asked and you would say
    strangers, and because we
    already grown apart, ripped
    the stitchings off our hands.
    Because, we never had history
    in the first place did we?

  16. Sweden* Sweden*
    posted a quote
    October 31, 2015 10:42pm EDT
    Poem.
    She said: "We're history now"
    And I watched our history. became
    photos with sharp edges and splinters
    that scratches and tears the inside of
    my veins. She was the rush of the blood,
    the sparkle in eyes and the cause of smiles.
    The cause of the destruction to me.
    She said: "I don't need you no more"
    it felt as if those words of need and
    craving for love from her was nothing
    but just a night stay in my arms, love.
    Love was beasts who scratched the insides
    and gnawed onto every feeling I had.
    Love was her.
    She said: "You are nothing to me now"
    nothing feels like the emptiness that
    laid there the whole time, after the
    words rolled down her tongue of sweet
    -ness of love and she told me she loved
    me but it seemed as if she loved one part.
    She did not love me, she did not.
    She said: "This is all for the past now"
    And, I watched my future turning into
    lava, burned everything in our way of
    a love story in the first place and I watch
    -ed you live and I am slowly dying in this
    burning heat of love that hurts now.
    She said: "I don't love you anymore"
    In the moment, I watched how love
    turned out to be the ticking bomb.
    The clock that ticks as I wait in the
    prison cell that kept me in my head.
    The ticking sound to the death row of
    the inmate's death last night.
    She said: "I'm sorry"
    And I said nothing,
    because it feels hollow
    now.

  17. Sweden* Sweden*
    posted a quote
    October 28, 2015 8:21pm EDT
    Poem.
    Couple's therapy.
    My boyfriend and I-I mean,
    Anxiety and I have been going
    to 'Couple's therapy' together.
    We would go every thursday's at 6.
    There were some days I wake up,
    having to go to work or to school.
    His palms are pressed against my
    forearms and nails digging in my
    forearms and he'd whisper: don't
    go, it's too early. Come back.
    As if he was afraid, I would only
    excape and leave him alone.
    After getting out the shower, I
    didn't smell like his afterscent
    of panic attacks and the harsh
    smell of sweat from those nighmares..
    Our session at Couple's therapy is
    exactly an hour and we would say
    the same topics that we are having
    problem with and it's usually the
    same issues, it's been on and off in
    high school. It was worse a month
    ago, when Anxiety began getting
    worse and out of hand and I couldn't
    breathe, being around. I feared, walk
    -ing around and having the attacks of
    panic and looking into his eyes would
    be the last thing I would see.
    He sits in the chair nervously, saying
    the exact thing as I am saying. His
    long fingers tucked under the pockets
    of his jeans and my throat hurts.
    She asks me if I have seen my friends
    in a while, but I answer as if it was known.
    "Not in a while, it's common to not see
    your friends a lot when you're dating right?"
    She shook her head and signs the paper
    with a note, she roughly said: time's up.
    Anxiety would only growl fine and slam
    the door behind us as if she upsetted him.
    Our therapist tells us that there were improve
    -ments and I think about the both of us
    being together for a long time but..
    I end up getitng more far away from him.
    His hands and palms feels distant when
    i move away from him, I get up easily.
    Our therapist thinks I am only with him
    because of how my father left, or how
    I was hurt or how or how, or how and so on.
    But it made Anxiety mad and he put it out
    on me when we gotten home alone.
    I am getting more independent, he's been
    packing up his past memories with me away
    and storing it in some luggages as if it was
    that many and it was that many. He tells me,
    I would be an empty house without a lock,
    without the security of a person's love and I
    stare at him.I cave in. Sometimes I think
    and believe he is right and I was wrong.
    Last week, I put on some clothing of confidence.
    It covered the flaws he pointed out months ago,
    I didn't think of him.
    It was all me and really it was me.
    I thought of me.

  18. Sweden* Sweden*
    posted a quote
    October 25, 2015 10:26pm EDT
    I know we might not be
    able to slow dance like
    our night on our wedding.
    When the DJ played the
    song that would only echo
    through my mind and words
    I could only cough out to say
    would be my brother's name
    to our son's face. You would
    only be patient and times
    you would cry but you're still
    there from Day 1 like you said.
    There's these memories stuck
    like glue on this tree that we
    first had our first kiss under.
    I would rip the bark off just to
    get to where the pernament mem
    -ories of you were hidden all along.
    I am still in love with you and you
    love me and I don't remember.
    My face might not look like what it
    was when we were, when we held
    hands as we walked down that single
    lane of memories to the future
    that only led us to this. I am still
    searching for this one memory of you.
    In dreams, I know what you are.
    The saddest cruelest thing is that when
    I wake up, I no longer know what I knew
    yesterday when I fell in love with you.

  19. Sweden* Sweden*
    posted a quote
    October 19, 2015 10:16pm EDT
    Poem.
    The woman down the street,
    stands on the corner and she
    tells me love and life is not
    as smooth as the road we
    were born to think it as.
    I used to believe in fairy tales,
    princes and princesses. I beli
    -eved in love and some days
    I do and some days it's not worth
    a shot to look at it and say I believe
    in it.
    It's a sad hope, knowing you lost
    everything that you had in your
    hands and the blood staining your
    once claimed of purity, does his
    hands look red? Dripping blood.
    He killed what was in me.
    The priest several streets down from
    the church tells me that life was never
    pure in the first place and it gives me
    hope and so I believe in him.
    Waking up lately felt like a tarnished
    cloud of a dream that was one.
    A long time ago there was a little girl,
    believe in dreams and was ripped away
    from things that were called innocence.
    The man preaches about God and I
    wonder if my belief ever managed to stay.
    After life tore up what was already close
    to be tarnished.

  20. Sweden* Sweden*
    posted a quote
    October 14, 2015 9:54pm EDT
    Drabble.
    When we were younger, your hair was as wild as the tangled tree
    branches in the forest. Your heart held back the cage of your
    ribs, you were a wild child with a heart that would have ran out
    to any girl that could try to tame a hurricane. Sometimes. in
    daydreams that was only just a foolish dream, I dreamt of our
    days together as we grow old. You killed my dreams.
    Loving a hurricane created a war torn in my heart with the thorns
    wrapped around. You killed me. Maybe, it was expected to love some
    -body as reckless, as you. In ways, I could have been a lost astronaut in
    space looking fora way home to your arms. I loved your wild heart
    and I assumed I could've tamed it. When we were younger, I kept my
    heart on my sleeve so you noticed me easily, as we grown up you
    seen the scars on my sleeves so you noticed my pain.
    The disaster created left after a warzone, you kept me in the back of your
    mind as if I was a secret to never be told. I was so close to your heart, those
    words I yearned to hear, turned to run off your tongue, unhinged jaws of
    the cliffs of the mountains; I was good to you. Through the town, it was
    never made out of our paper memories, it was just the string that held us
    together is made out of our memories. I found myself tangled through the
    wild branches of the forest of your own secrets, searching for the real you.

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