The heart of a man
is no heart at all
If his heart is not loved by a women.
The heart of a women
is no heart at all
If her heart isn't loving a man.
But the heart of a man and women in love
Can be worse than not having a heart at all
Because at least if you have no heart at all
It can't die when it breaks apart.
Mots clés love poetry meaningful easy-to-read slammed-2 slamming
The problem is, i don't know what choice is the right one
holder: That's because none of them are the right choice. Sometimes you have to choose between a bunch of wrong choices and no right ones. You just have to choose which wrong choice feels the least wrong
Mots clés sky-davis
I turn to head outside when the boys make their way back into the house. Kel stops in the doorway and puts his hands on his hips, then looks up at me.
“Are you my sister’s boyfriend?”
I’m thrown off by his directness. I pull my jacket on and shake my head. “Um, no. Just her friend.”
“She told my mom you were taking her on a date. I thought only boyfriends took girls on dates.”
“Well,” I pause. “Sometimes boys take girls on dates to see if they want them to be their girlfriend.”
I notice Caulder standing beside me, taking in the conversation as if he’s just as curious. I wasn’t prepared to have to explain the rules of dating right now.
“So it’s like a test?” Caulder asks. “To see if you want Layken to be your girlfriend?”
I shrug and nod. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”
Kel laughs. “You aren’t gonna like her. She burps a lot. And she’s bossy. And she never lets me drink coffee, so she probably won’t let you have any, either. And she has really bad taste in music and sings way too loud and leaves her bras all over the house. It’s gross.”
I laugh. “Thanks for the warning. You think it’s too late to back out now?”
Kel shakes his head, missing my sarcasm completely. “No, she’s already dressed so you have to take her now.”
I sigh, pretending to be annoyed. “Well, it’s just a few hours. Hopefully she won’t burp a lot and boss me around and steal my coffee and sing to her really bad music and leave her bra in my car.”
Or hopefully she will.
Mots clés slammed this-girl will-pov
I'm butterflying positive
Colleen HooverShe's got mascara smeared underneath her eyes, some of which is still on my pillowcase. Her hair is in disarray. Her ponytail holder in on the sheet beside her. She looks like hell. A beautiful hell
Colleen HooverMots clés will-cooper
Mom?” I say as I slip on my boots. “I know you were only eighteen when you met Dad. I mean, that’s really young to meet the person you spend the rest of your life with. Do you ever regret it?”
She doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, she lies back on my bed and clasps her hands behind her head, pondering my question.
“I’ve never regretted it. Questioned it? Sure. But never regretted."
"Is there a difference?” I ask.
“Absolutely. Regret is counterproductive. It’s looking back on a past that you can’t change. Questioning things as they occur can prevent regret in the future. I questioned a lot about my relationship with your father. People make spontaneous decisions based on of their hearts all the time. There’s so much more to relationships than just love.
There are three questions every woman should be able to answer yes to before she commits to a man. If you answer no to any of the three questions, run like hell.”
“It’s just a date,” I laugh. “I doubt we’ll be doing any committing.”
“I know you’re not, Lake. I’m serious. If you can’t answer yes to these three questions, don’t even waste your time on a relationship.”
When I open my mouth, I feel like I’m just reinforcing the fact that I’m her child. I don’t interrupt her again.
“Does he treat you with respect at all times? That’s the first question. The second question is, if he is the exact same person twenty years from now that he is today, would you still want to marry him? And finally, does he inspire you to want to be a better person? You find someone you can answer yes about to all three, then you’ve found a good man.
I get it, Will,” I finally whisper.
“I get it. In the first line, when you said that death was the only thing inevitable in life…you emphasized the word death. But when you said it again at the end of the poem, you didn’t emphasize the word death, you emphasized the word life. You put the emphasis on life at the end. I get it, Will. You’re right. She’s not trying to prepare us for her death. She’s trying to prepare us for her life. For what she has left of it.
It’s fine, Mom, really.”
She’s tucking me into my bed, asking me how my back feels for the one hundredth time in the ten minutes that I’ve been home. She smiles and strokes my hair. That’s what I’m going to miss the most about her. The way she strokes my hair and looks at me with so much love in her eyes.
All I ever feel like doing is sleeping. I guess because it doesn't hurt as bad when you're asleep.
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