Penname: Gothical [Contact] Real name: Gothical Queen Of The Darkside
Member Since: 11 Jun 2011
Membership status: Member
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Girls Don't realize these things;




I'm sorry


that I bought you roses


to tell you that I like you




I'm sorry


That I was raised with respect


not to sleep with you when you were drunk




I'm sorry


That my body's not ripped enough


to "satisfy" your wants




I'm sorry


that I open your car door,


and pull out your chair like I was raised




I'm sorry


That I'm not cute enough


to be "your guy"




I'm sorry


That I am actually nice;


not a jerk




I'm sorry


I don't have a huge bank account


to buy you expensive things




I'm sorry


I like to spend quality nights at home


cuddling with you, instead of at a club




I'm sorry


I would rather make love to you then just screw you


like some random guy.




I'm sorry


That I am always the one you need to talk to,


but never good enough to date




I'm sorry


That I always held your hair back when you threw up, and didn't get mad at you for puking in my car,


but when we went out you went home with another guy




I'm sorry


That I am there to pick you up at 4am when your new man hit you and dropped you off in the middle of nowhere,


but not good enough to listen to me when I need a friend




I'm sorry


If I start not being there because it hurts being used as a door mat, only to be thrown to the side when the new jerk comes around




I'm sorry


If I don't answer my phone anymore when you call, to listen to you cry for hours, instead of getting a couple hours of sleep before work




I'm sorry


that you can't realize.. I've been the one all along.




I'm sorry


If you read this and know somebody like this


but don't care


But most of all




I'm sorry


For not being sorry anymore




I'm sorry


That you can't accept me for who I am




I'm sorry


I can never do anything right, and nothing that I do is good


enough to make it in your world.




I'm sorry


I caught your boyfriend with another girl and told you about it, I thought that was what friends were for...




I'm sorry


That I told you I loved you and actually meant it.




I'm sorry


That I talked to you for nine hours on Thanksgiving when your boyfriend was threatening you instead of spending time with my family.




I'm Sorry


That I cared




I'm sorry


that I listen to you at night talking about how you wish you could have done something different.




Ladies always complain and gripe to their friends that there is never any good guys out there, and they always end up with assholes who mistreat them. Well ladies, next time you're complaining, maybe look up to see who you're complaining to, maybe that special someone is right there hanging on your every word as usual, screaming in his head "Why won't you give me a chance?"


Because the person you are usually searching for is right by you.










Month one



Mommy


 


I am only 8 inches long


but I have all my organs.


I love the sound of your voice.


Every time I hear it


I wave my arms and legs.


The sound of your heart beat


is my favorite lullaby.


Month Two



Mommy


 


today I learned how to suck my thumb.


If you could see me


you could definitely tell that I am a baby.


I'm not big enough to survive outside my home though.


It is so nice and warm in here.


Month Three



You know what Mommy


 


I'm a boy!


I hope that makes you happy.


I always want you to be happy.


I don't like it when you cry.


You sound so sad.


It makes me sad too


and I cry with you even though


you can't hear me.


Month Four



Mommy


 


my hair is starting to grow.


It is very short and fine, but i will have a lot of it


I spend a lot of my time exercising.


I can turn my head and curl my fingers and toes


and stretch my arms and legs.


I am becoming quite good at it too.


Month Five



You went to the doctor today.


 


Mommy, he lied to you.


He said that I'm not a baby.


I am a baby Mommy, your baby.


I think and feel.


Mommy, what's abortion?


Month Six



I can hear that doctor again.


 


I don't like him.


He seems cold and heartless.


Something is intruding my home.


The doctor called it a needle.


Mommy what is it? It burns!


Please make him stop!


I can't get away from it!


Mommy! HELP me!


Month Seven



Mommy


 


I am okay.


I am in Jesus's arms.


He is holding me.


He told me about abortion.


Why didn't you want me Mommy?


Every Abortion Is Just . . .



One more heart that was stopped.


 


Two more eyes that will never see.


Two more hands that will never touch.


Two more legs that will never run.


One more mouth that will never speak.


If you're against abortion, re-post this.






I am the girl kicked out of her home because I confided in my mother that I am a lesbian.


I am the prostitute working the streets because nobody will hire a transsexual woman.


I am the sister who holds her gay brother tight through the painful, tear-filled nights.


We are the parents who buried our daughter long before her time.


I am the man who died alone in the hospital because they would not let my partner of twenty-seven years into the room.


I am the foster child who wakes up with nightmares of being taken away from the two fathers who are the only loving family I have ever had. I wish they could adopt me.


I am one of the lucky ones, I guess. I survived the attack that left me in a coma for three weeks, and in another year I will probably be able to walk again.


I am not one of the lucky ones. I killed myself just weeks before graduating high school. It was simply too much to bear.


We are the couple who had the realtor hang up on us when she found out we wanted to rent a one-bedroom for two men.


I am the person who never knows which bathroom I should use if I want to avoid getting the management called on me.


I am the mother who is not allowed to even visit the children I bore, nursed, and raised. The court says I am an unfit mother because I now live with another woman.


I am the domestic-violence survivor who found the support system grow suddenly cold and distant when they found out my abusive partner is also a woman.


I am the domestic-violence survivor who has no support system to turn to because I am male.


I am the father who has never hugged his son because I grew up afraid to show affection to other men.


I am the home-economics teacher who always wanted to teach gym until someone told me that only lesbians do that.


I am the man who died when the paramedics stopped treating me as soon as they realized I was transsexual.


I am the person who feels guilty because I think I could be a much better person if I did not have to always deal with society hating me.


I am the man who stopped attending church, not because I don't believe, but because they closed their doors to my kind.


I am the person who has to hide what this world needs most, love.


I am the person who is afraid of telling his loving Christian parents he loves another male.


Re-post this if you believe homophobia is wrong. Please do your part to end it




Death of an Innocent




I went to a party, Mom,


I remembered what you said.


You told me not to drink, Mom,


So I drank soda instead.


I really felt proud inside, Mom,


The way you said I would.


I didn't drink and drive, Mom,


Even though the others said I should.


I know I did the right thing, Mom,


I know you are always right.


Now the party is finally ending, Mom,


As everyone is driving out of sight.


As I got into my car, Mom,


I knew I'd get home in one piece.


Because of the way you raised me,


So responsible and sweet.


I started to drive away, Mom,


But as I pulled out into the road,


The other car didn't see me, Mom,


And hit me like a load.


As I lay there on the pavement, Mom,


I hear the policeman say,


"The other guy is drunk," Mom,


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