Writers block is a plague and I'm infected. Hi, I'm Araw. I'm seventeen and I call myself I writer.

Message to Readers

Sorry for being inactive. Writing's been a little hard, but I got this one out. This is a weird, weird one. Hopefully it makes a little sense.

My Impossible Girl

September 10, 2018


Oh, my Impossible Girl
Remember how we sat just you and I
Writing our hearts out and generating book recommendations
During those library lunch times
Where no one else was watching
Remember that you read to me
Austen’s Sense and Sensibilities
And all the while my ears had missed the words
Because I was absolutely hypnotised
By the movement of your lips
Once you had caught me staring
And instead of scolding me for it
Held my hand, intertwining my fingers with yours
Making my heart nearly stop mid-beat
And my mind go blank
My Impossible Girl
Remember how you allowed me
To call you by your first name even though I wasn't supposed to
But only when we were alone
Because then others would take it upon themselves to do the same
Remember how you dried my hair
And lent me your jacket, which was at least a size too big for even you
After I had rushed in the pouring rain
To see you again
Because I could never see you enough
The want to be with you
Slowly ate away at me
Like a disease rotting the soul
But I always hung onto the fact
That you were constant in my life
My Impossible Girl
Remember how when we were around everyone else
You never smiled at me
Or said a word
Except to notify me of that day’s homework
Remember how you even called me the wrong name
Just to ensure everyone knew
You cared for me as little as them
Because you were so afraid of what would happen to you
That I didn’t matter
In those moments, I hated you
You were able to walk away
My feelings weren’t as merciful to me as they were to you
And you watched me desperately hang on to anything
That showed even an inkling of love for me
Oh, my Impossible Girl
Remember how you planned to buy a rose to support a charity
But it saved you ten cents per rose if you bought two
So you had given me the extra one
Saying that you never planned to buy it in the first place
Remember how you did this
Knowing full well you would leave me after that year
That I would be left thinking there was hope
At least for those final few months
But of course all roses die
You taught me everything I know
About writing poems like these
But now I can’t even do that without wanting you here
Oh and one more thing
I found out that buying that extra rose never saved you ten cents


See History
  • September 10, 2018 - 8:06am (Now Viewing)

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  • 2A,2H and 1D


    12 months ago
  • ChairsRAwesome

    AH my heart

    about 1 year ago
  • Nonny21

    wow wow wow wow.... I'm in love with your writing and absolutely love this piece <3

    about 1 year ago
  • Onion3102

    Oh my lord, this is so beautiful. I love every part of it; the dark yet sweet mellowness of the piece just... aghh! It describes in words what usually one cannot even imagine...

    about 1 year ago
  • Anha

    Those were nice roses...

    about 1 year ago
  • janice

    dang my poor heart...and I'm reading this as I'm listening to depressing music...

    about 1 year ago
  • Johanna

    This is so heartbreaking...

    about 1 year ago
  • R.j.Elsewhere

    Damn, M.....I'm in tears. This....this is art.;art created by the pieces of a broken heart. You ho, stop being so amazing at writing sad stuff, my poor Italian soul cant take it.

    about 1 year ago