~Lorijn-Lammes

Not waving, but drowning.

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About Me Member Wannabe Novelist Lorijn15/Female/Netherlands

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Christine

It has been so long, Christine, it has been so long I can't remember. Not the larger things. I only remember tiny details. Things that do not matter as much. Nevertheless, I still remember you, I will always remember. Perhaps because you’ll always be here. You promised after all.
'Where are you?' I asked, desperate to find you once again. 'I am here, you are here. I'll always be here' you said. You are so beautiful, my dearest Christine. Your long dark hair always rested on your shoulder, and it always was so soft. Maybe I should have told you this. Maybe not, maybe it’s better that I didn’t. I loved you, and despi

It's not often that I write prose, but I'm quite fond of this piece.

Newest

BonesYou said you liked my bones and now they're all showing pale skin and shallow breaths so carve hearts in my spine
Drain me, love, make me lose the little bit of faith that I had I'll kneel and pray to a god in which I'll never fully believe
You made me, so face it that my heart is cold and my fingers frozen solid and dear, it's because you never held me the way you promised you would once I changed all that I was Bones
by ~Lorijn-Lammes

I.D.
by ~Lorijn-Lammes

Bruised kneesYou reminded me of fireflies And bruises on my knees I could see the sun and the stars As they were hanging in your hair
But you went ahead and shot the bird Pulled out its feathers one by one And placed them around my face Like I was your raspberry queen
But I’m not made of sunflower seeds I’m just made of rain and
Chilly fingers clasping an empty chest And feathers, my dear, won’t fill it Bruised knees
by ~Lorijn-Lammes

BreathingI held on to every breath I took And you pulled my hair To keep me down but I,
I didn’t want it I didn’t need To live steady Breathing
by ~Lorijn-Lammes

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deviantID

I'm a little 15 year old girl who lives in the Netherlands, somewhere near Amsterdam. I love England and cookies and muffins and tea. I write, mostly not because I can, but because I don't know how not to. Most of the time I don't say very much, but when I do it's a load of crap. So don't take me too serious, and don't take my poetry to serious either.

I don't, I don't, I don't know anymore.

Thu Aug 6, 2009, 12:43 PM

_{This is a kind of rant, or perhaps just stuff but you're not forced to read it, you know.} So, well, my mother has a new boyfriend. And some part of me is just happy for her, really, but it also makes me realise that people are replaceable. And it's not that I miss my father, please, do not get me wrong, but it makes me sad. And all the things we have as now will never last. And nothing ever lasts. And memories fade and die and we replace them. We replace and replace and replace and forget and forgive and rewrite plans because of things and I just can't figure out how and why and if I ever will know why and all I ever wanted to know was why. Do you know why? Do you, do you, do you? Because I don't want to feel forgettable, replaceable, meaningless. But I am, I am, and so are you perhaps. And I hate this feeling, and it makes me miserable and makes me wonder why I'm even fighting this hard to stay alive these days. I'm sorry, I am, I am, I am. Love always (and ever), Lorijn

13 Comments | Previous Journal Entries

Mood: Miserable
Listening to: 21 Guns - Green Day
Reading: 50/50 murders
Eating: Not enough, not nearly enough.
Drinking: Same as eating.

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Comments

~cyanidedrinker Oct 4, 2009, 10:15:35 AM

thank youu

--
_{( it'sgonnabealright )}

~moondrunk Sep 12, 2009, 9:24:33 PM

where have you gone little bird
always a larkspur
no rest for my heart

--
"My little old man and I fell out;
I'll tell you what 'twas all about,--
I had money and he had none,
And that's the way the noise begun."

~Lorijn-Lammes Sep 18, 2009, 12:14:20 PM

--
Stop taking breaths and start breathing, honey.

~WordsAreMyWeakness Aug 26, 2009, 11:03:48 AM

Thank you for the favorite on the LYFA stamp. <3

--
"You will find as you look back upon your life that the moments when you have really lived are the moments when you have done things in the spirit of love."
-Henry Drummond

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