All Nonfiction
- Bullying
- Books
- Academic
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Heroes
- Interviews
- Memoir
- Personal Experience
- Sports
- Travel & Culture
All Opinions
- Bullying
- Current Events / Politics
- Discrimination
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Environment
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
All Hot Topics
- Bullying
- Community Service
- Environment
- Health
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
- Back
Summer Guide
- Program Links
- Program Reviews
- Back
College Guide
- College Links
- College Reviews
- College Essays
- College Articles
- Back
A kiss of Death
I can’t do this anymore, I’m crying and screaming, someone let me out of this world.
Walking alone, feeling the soft breeze roll over my shoulder,
It’s like I can see his face and him saying “I should have told her”.
It was that one night that changed my life, now I’m a mess, restless and trying but not doing all right.
I feel a wash of hopelessness tower over my weak body, and I’m shaken, with the last words of a heart break.
If only I knew, if only he told me before I fell in love, I could look up into the sky and know he’s safe above.
I could have said goodbye, just one more kiss, the death of my lover wouldn’t hurt like this.
It happened so fast, a sickness with rash, I wanted to be with him but he told me it wouldn’t last.
To just hear the truth from his own lips would change so much, I would know he was protecting me, if anything it meant to be.
I still love him now and I always will, weather he is by my side or looking down with guilt
I know it’s not his fault but to get that call and hear that you other half is gone forever, it’s like I can’t even begin to come together.
As the days and nights go on, I still cry myself to sleep, and then I begin to remember the times we laughed, the times we made memories, and the times we couldn’t leave.
Leaving each other was always a difficult task, now I really won’t get to see him again; this is really the last.
The last of everything, the last of me, as I lay a bouquet of flowers’ on his grave I sigh with grieve.
Similar Articles
JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 0 comments.