X equals O
I equals YOU
Why can't they be there too?
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
te ciepłe chwile
w zimnym zniszczonym domu
i pamiętam drobną postać
stojącą przy starej kuchence
i zapach rosołu pamiętam
siwe włosy i twarz przykrytą zmarszczkami
łzy w wiekowych oczach
przy nieczęstych powitaniach
i dłoń wyciągniętą ku niebu
przez szyby samochodu pamiętam
powolny krok i kury sąsiada
i ołowiane żołnierzyki
na wytartej podłodze
sny w których mówiła
że widziała jak przyjeżdżam
przyćmioną przez chorobę
niepoznającą mojej twarzy
zapach ziemi nad jej łóżkiem
i płacz który powstrzymywałam
you secretly want her faults so
you can have something to say
you were like her, you have
something of hers. only
i think her faults skipped you
and went straight to me. i
like to collect things i'll
never touch again, collect thoughts
and collect pasts only to
stash them in the cupboard
so i dont open the doors.
its the silences in between
that makes me think of her. and
i think of her everyday
i do i do. i even started
wearing her pocket watch
again because it makes me
feel like im doing something
i know you deserved
half of me
remember the days i was
lonely and i was terrible and
i was mean and i was.
i was not your
i was not i was not and im
sorry, so so sorry.
you dont need to shout for
me to listen. i'll listen
even if you
whisper. even if you
say nothing at all.
i like to keep secrets and i
guess im like my grandma, li
My every day lifeIm just trying to get through the day
Expecting hateful phrases
Hopefully these are just teenage stages
But not every teenager goes through these changes
Locked up in the room and the parents acting forceful
But surely someone who has stopped eating isnt called normal
With a lighter and a blade
It makes the pain go away
With earbuds and a mug
My life is a drug
But i just calmly say, "I don't give a fuck."
But my smile you dont doubt
Forget this im out
Turning into my cousin who is a thug
And yes i use to turn to drugs
But there is one thing that makes us different
He didnt take his life
But i might
Now I know.
Oh Green -Eyed-One I hope this you read or maybe hear
I am sorry I say again and again because the fear made me very unclear
This apology is sincere.
They called us the Gemini
Confused we were so we'd scream why?
It never made sense so we'd sigh.
Oh Green-Eyed-One I hope this time was the last
We do such horrors to each other which made us feel harassed.
I doubt that either of us was the outcast.
They called you the evil twin.
Can I scream at them at how wrong they've been?
You've always fought so hard to save my skin.
Oh Green-Eyed-One I hope you can remember
I'd scream at you so we could fight them and not each other.
It went all wrong to somewhere I couldn't venture.
They were gone but it was all me.
What was my excuse, was my vision cloudy?
It got to the end and all was murky.
Oh Green-Eyed-One I hope you can understand
That what world you seek comfort in is not a dreamland.
You would forget your own honor that you wrote stone and try to write more in the sand.
WithoutWhen your Grandmother died, it was all too quiet.
One minute she was there, balding and bleeding,
and the next she was gone like the cloud of a cough.
A loud clap.
The house smelled of her perfume,
chemotherapy, cigarettes and scotch. Burning throats and salt.
Warmth when you’re caught in the rain,
on the inner cavity,
arching whale bones and plush carpet.
Watch the glass room- that’s where they say she died.
You can still sense her there, when you cut your hips against edges,
find paperclips in paper flower wreaths.
You took away the chairs and burned them after she died so unexpectedly.
After Michael went to the fracking fields,
a mouth full of rot and a head full of meth.
After falling down on little children’s feet,
down the silent stairs with secrets up-top-
with the wine-bellied dog in the corner standing upright-
the house becomes all too empty.
The lights all explode and the walls
pale into mist and whitewash. Cracked splinters and bare rooms
with the fu
HospiceWe cut the birthday cake today,
warm inside, away from the Ithaca rain
that flooded ten dozen houses down by Binghamton
and whisked away the rest of the family’s pain-
as I measured coffee sips and sugar packets out
in little lines like the well-behaved children we never were,
I reminisced into the mists gathering by the windows
when the cigar smoke crept in from the porch, the kitchen fan high strung
and whirring like a deathtrap, summer flyswatters flicking
in old lady’s hands, Aunt Jackie, Barbara, even my father’s new wife.
They talked of old hotels, ate potato salad, laughed
and I made conversation to a dinner plate, the coffee carafe.
It was nice to be alone in a house full of people,
but the loneliness inspired thoughtlessness,
and in such manner I inquired your absence.
And it grew too quiet, the fan making all the noise,
flyswatters swaying to a standstill- even the air was devoid of smoked and released vapors
from tobacco leaves smuggled from Cuba.
And the w
The Monster InsideThe Monster Inside
Sorry but it's not you it's just me
And I'm not angry with you
As I could never be
But alone is the way I need to be
So for today you were lucky to see
The way this monster can be
This monster that is.....Me!!!!
Thanks for your support and sympathy
But I will have no empathy
For I sent this on myself a long time ago
I have to stand and face these consequences now I know
For this is the way it has to be
For all alone is the only way to set me free
So I wish you all the best in your future
But now I have to leave you all and go to nurture
My crying heart from this pain and let my eyes cry like falling rain
For you can travel alone now on your road so long
For I just don't need to be there now to hear your lovely song
But you don't need my help anymore
So goodbye good luck and I'm closing the door.
snugFREEKSinJUNGLEnibbles Nitterinflower memo reez inasida pillowy case
or wild in outdoor curtains
gun klub renual chit speeding thu the snail mail
wee anteek ornaments
on granE Zwindowz
figor reenz in hoodeez n shell soots
wee pitbulls on leedz
all ya need is a roof over ur feelingz
the p-yan-o tin kill has got the hole area sealed off
lis 10 ing face takes sum o me mouth noises
things made 4 march alone 4 the stand alone march month
things that were sitting comfort tablee up in heVen
B4 the Bud Gee cage ban
Bon cette fois, rage matinale.Bon cette fois, rage matinale.
Pavé du matin.
A ceux qui croient être victimes de tout, qui cherchent à empêcher les gens de dormir et à les faire passer pour des monstres. Votre vie est bien triste.
Tout ce que vous avez morigéné sur moi ou d'autres comme moi, ça a bien pris sur des esprits aussi faibles que prétentieux qui croient grâce à vous détenir un quelconque bon sens alors que vous n'avez même pas un bon sens quelconque.
Ridicule. Ma main dans votre tronche ça vous apprendrait peut-être l'humilité, ça vous donnerait peut-être le quart de la patience que vous vous vantez d'avoir.
Vous vous dites croyants, ayant profondément la foi mais je croyais avoir lu "Ne Juge pas de peur d'être Jugé", vous avez dû lire une version pour enfants alors si vous n'avez pas vu ça.
Parlez de respect encore une fois quand vous en manquez redoutabl