Breathe out your fear
Along with your tears
Then happy days
Might come your way
DustDusty fingers move quickly,
When they are sickly.
Clean Fingers make haste,
because they don't have the time to waste.
Lopsided FeelingTears run down my face, I cry
Inside and out but you dont know why
It because of your skull of steel
That my thoughts dont turn your wheel
Im weakened and starved by your words
But that doesnt meant Ill allow my flesh to be eaten by the birds
I amI am the child that waits
I am the child that fears
I am the child that worries you'll never be here.
I am the teen that hits
I am the teen that cries
I am the teen who is always asking 'Why?'.
I am the adult that works
I am the adult that fears
I am the adult of the child that waits for me to be there.
Excerpt From FB Fan-FictionThree hundred sixty two days, Kyou reminded himself with an indifferent voice.
The cat couldnt figure out that out of everyone that he could never see again, why did she have to go. Why did she have to leave him in the shadows. Why couldnt she stay? Within his mind he kept replaying the scenario constantly over and over again in his brain even though he knew the answer. The carrot top shook his head fervently trying to shake the images of her delicate kind face from his head. He was foolish to love her, to care for her, and to try to protect her.
To try and defy God...
The wind blew solemnly tossing hair in his face. Closing his eyes he let stray strands of hair tickle his furrowed brow. Fat puffy grey beasts rolled around the sky soaking up its moisture, they growled with pleasure as they began to approach the Sohma residence. Just as the young man stood up and began to file out curses towards the clouds he heard the petite slam of a d
Yes, I Have a PenisYes, I Have A Penis
Do not assume (if I hold the door for you),
that I am making a statement
about your inabilities
to open the door for yourself.
If you hold it for me,
I'll say 'thankyou'.
Do not assume (if I pay for the meal),
that I am underestimating
your earning capacity
as a woman.
If you invite me out for a meal,
Do not assume (if I defend your rights),
that I am belittling
the attempts that you have made
to defend your rights yourself.
If you defend my rights,
I'll consider you human.
symptoms of red a materialist
inside of you
unknitting your sweater
& in your dream
you are a wolf eating
a flower in an orange field. the world
is ending. an unnamed girl stains you
as if she were tea
giving up to a
she writes a story: the unrequited
blurry visions of two visionaries
the center of the universewhen i die, the earth will remain unchanged.
mountains will still soar above the plains, and
the moon will stay in control of the oceans,
repeating its orbit around our planet.
when i die, cities in africa will remain the same.
buildings will not tumble to the ground, and
the citizens will go about their daily lives,
repeating their orbit around the sun.
don't trust me unhinged like a stolen
surge of ocean, I become
what your girlfriend thinks I
am: drinking alone, forgetting
your name until it flowers
from my blackberry throat
I wash my tangled
hair in your kitchen sink,
How to love a girl who can't love herself.one.
When she cries herself to sleep
six out of seven nights a week you must
say nothing. You must simply take
her in your arms and kiss her gaunt,
pale cheeks and wait for her to
slumber at the sound of your heart.
On the days where she wishes she
were part of the stars, tell her
no. Tell her that there are too many
lights in the sky and that just one
would be forgotten the moment you looked
away from it. Tell her that she is perfect
the way she is: completely human.
Don't let her think about the scars
that no one but her can see. If she
says "I think I'm broken" smile like you
know a secret and say, "No, you're mending."
But do not be the one to fix her - no, she
Rhyming in PoemsWhy do you all want to rhyme
all the time?
You don't need to do it,
that's perfectly fine.
You think it's so cool
And it leaves poems gleaming,
But it desecrates flow
And can ruin the meaning.
It's so bad to rhythm,
It's like a bad day
You wonder why you're not
Sleeping it away.
You think it's the root
Of your writing's salvation,
But we all will hate you,
All parts of the nation.
You think it sounds nice
But you don't even know
How ruined the sound is
How badly it 'goes'.
So the irony's over,
Your poems can mend,
I'll stop myself here,
Before you meet
EmoSo what if I'm emo?
So what if I cry?
I'm not THAT emotional,
I dont want to die.
So what if I dress in a different style?
There's no need to scream and run for a mile
I dont like to cut and abuse my arm,
I am not depressed,
so why cause self harm?
Could it be that I am just like you?
That I can smile, giggle and laugh along too?
Could it be that I am happy with myself?
It's just that I am not some pretty doll on the shelf.
Could it be that the only reason i dye my hair black;
Is because I dont want to be some barbie in a bimbo girl pack.
These are the reasons, and I'll tell you why,
that I dont look in the mirror and start to cry.
I know Im not perfect,
I'm sure you will agree
But I am so very positive,
as positive as can be
That Im not like you,
Oh dont make me laugh!
I dont spend hours on my make-up's mask
I'm totally self-confident,
Ill smile for all to see.
Because the great thing about being emo,
Is that I am happy, with just being me.
Dont be afraid of who you are.<
On self-loveMaybe who
she really loves,
is the name
of the boy
she thinks of,
while she lines
her chatoyant eyes
maybe the name
she really needs
to think of,
is her own.