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Life of a Fashion MajorNo time to sleep.
No time to eat.
No time to sleep.
No time to eat.
No time to sleep.
No time to eat.
No time to stop.
No time to think.
AloneI feel my heart breaking.
The silence: suffocating.
I’m drowning in tears.
The emotion is killing me.
And yet you don’t care.
You used me.
You don’t care about me.
You care about her,
The one who broke your heart,
And left you without cause.
Now here I am,
My shoulders shaking from the weight of yet another broken heart.
You call yourself a fool in love.
It is I who am the fool.
I trusted you with my every thought,
My every feeling.
You broke my trust.
You left me alone.
SilentI try to speak,
But cannot find the words.
When I do,
I have to fight to be heard over you.
You ask me a question,
Then ignore me when I answer.
I try to find my voice,
But you keep me lost.
You steal my map.
You keep the treasure hid far away.
My opinions are meaningless.
I try so hard to be what you want.
But sometimes I lose myself,
And can only think to scream,
The sound still unheard over your roars.
I try to make myself heard.
I scream out in pure agony,
Pure primitive instinct to survive,
To feel anything close to alive.
Yet under you,
I only end up silent.
The ManI couldn't help but stare. There was just something about this man that was so intriguing. I have no idea why but I just couldn't take my eyes off the tall, thin man. I tried to look away, but some mysterious force would make my eyes snap right back onto him. He must've noticed me staring because he started walking towards me. And yet I couldn't stop staring.
"Can I help you?" He was standing right in front of me and I could see every feature clearly. His long black bangs and fair skin brought out his ice blue eyes which sparkled behind his glasses. The small silver stud in between his soft, plump lips and his strong chin glittered in the bright California sun.
"You were staring at me." His voice was different than I expected. It sounded almost cartoonish.
"Oh! I um uh." He fiddled with the bar across the top of his left ear and chuckled, obviously amused by my struggle to form a coherent sentence.
"Some of my friends and me were just about to get in line for the h
Story blip 1I felt his icy cold fingers rubbing against my arm as I stared deep into his equaly icy blue eyes and whispered "I love you" without even thinking, the demon-like creature pulling me deeper and deeper under his spell. He pulls me into an icy, passionate kiss and I fall completely, his lover and his slave for all eternity, our souls bound by a sick, twisted fate, keeping us in this hellish waltz until the end of time.
Trying to get away.
Trying to ecape the darkness and find the light.
Nothing but running.
Running from my fears.
Running from my past.
Running from my demons.
Running away from the monster I've become.
Running away from myself.
The chase is never ending.
A Visit from SatanIt all started with me and my parents going to visit my brother at college down south. We decided to make it into a little trip so we went to New Orleans for a few days. The first few days were normal save for the occasional ghost which was to be expected.
Then At around 4:30 am on one of the last nights in New Orleans I woke up for no reason laying on my back looking up which was weird because I usually sleep on my side curled up in a ball. As soon as I opened mu eyes I saw a bright red web and a very thin man clinging to it like a spider with red skin, claws, and yellow eyes, hissing like a snake. I was frozen as fear spread to every cell of my body. The man then looked down at me, an evil grin on his horrid face, and said "I want you." in a low, grumbling voice.
I instantly broke free from my fear-induced paralysis and ran into the bathroom screaming which woke up my whole family. When I told them what I saw they all laughed and called me crazy because they didn't s
Haunting in the Hallway"Earlier in the summer I was at my family's beach house in Oxnard with my parents. Late one night I was thirsty so I got up to get some water in the kitchen at the end of the long hall upstairs.
I got halfway down the hall when I saw a transparent white figure coming up the stairs. It had long black hair that looked as if it were blowing in the wind, fair skin, and wore a long, tattered white gauzy gown which also looked as if it were blowing in the wind. I noticed the figure was floating a few centimeters off the ground and didn't have any feet.
After a few moments of me staring at it, the figure turned to look at me. I noticed it was insanely beautiful but had two black holes where its eyes should have been. I instantly got a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach and startd backing up to go back to my room. Suddenly the figure's face contorted into the face of a demon as it let out a scream I will never forget and began to rush towards me. I tried to run to my room but the door slamed
A message to the brokenYou drown yourself
in liquid sorrows,
letting the salty mess
burn your wounds,
and the sadness
to drip in your mouth,
consuming your words
and you say
you deserve the pain,
but I want to dry your face,
and whisper in your ear
how the clouds cry too,
while they hold such beauty,
and so do you.
Pretty metaphors are for pretty girlsI told you to stop
spewing pretty metaphors at me,
for with each elaborate comparison,
I feel a bit more
detached from this world
And maybe I don’t feel so strong at the moment,
but would you be
if you felt like the entire universe
was resting upon your shoulders,
and someone was just there saying:
But you’re stronger than the powerful beats
of a butterfly’s wings
And maybe I do need more confidence,
but would you exuberate it
when the part you hated most about yourself
were the freckles that have speckled your face for years,
and someone was just there muttering:
They’re not flaws,
but rather stars that form constellations
Yes, I can’t help but hate
all those unrealistic metaphors
you choose to pelt at me when I’m low,
yet the irony is,
I know that those beautiful words
are realistic in your eyes,
So I can’t hate you.
dark circlesi haven't slept well in 14 days
my eyes droop pretty colors
'50 shades of purple and grey,
they're bags and they're designer'
making jokes is how i cope
with chapped lips and constant chap-stick
it tastes like honey and mint
i laugh and say i'm addicted.
hooded lids and sleepy smiles
during lunch at subway
my friends ask if I'm okay
I say that I'm just tired.
but really when I see him with her
my heart sinks to the tiles
she's pretty and witty and sure as hell she can sing
and i'm just a loud bone-collector.
when I see her with him,
dancing and laughing and grinning,
the ring on her finger
laughs at my singularity.
for as much as i lie and as much as i try
my loneliness still creeps in,
because no matter how much they protest,
i'm still the lowly fifth-wheel.
walking behind them on sidewalks
that are wide, but built for four
smiles and laughs when they look back
but the frown creeps evermore.
pelvis peaks through paper-thin skin
and knuckles white and pale
my ribs are empty, my bo
Clear WristA clear wrist, barren of scars,
as opposed to skin sauntered in marks,
tells a trickier story than it's soiled and raw,
uncaring, unkempt counter part.
Bravery, I think it holds,
the strength to bare unimaginable loads
of pain and suffering through endless times,
and withstanding the agony of sleepless nights.
Some think it is fear, the reluctance to cut,
but I believe it opposite, it show courage and guts.
To bear your pain without a nick on your wrist,
is like a solider braving his terrain while being torn limb from limb.
Agonizing as it is, to hide your pain,
you do it so well, and no attention you'll gain.
At the end of the day, it's not cry for attention,
rather a cry for the victory that's silently mentioned.
Your scars are those not self inflicted,
and despite the gnawing intention,
to harm yourself and ease your pain,
the scars you earn are rightfully gained.
In a room of those who have jumped the gun,
and left traces of blood deep in their arms,
do not be tempted to do the sam
specter boys have always looked best sinkinghe says,
i want to count all 206 &
feel the notches of your ribs -
i want you, weary boy, to
phase yourself down while
you are burning inside out.
i will seethe inside your skull
like thoughts, like cigarette filters;
you will thank me as i molder in your marrow.
Moira (Excelsior)Moira (Excelsior)
hands clap over my eyes
like a chain clasp
linking lace around my neck.
and our clutch.
splitting into a wide upward curve,
canines and incisors cut through screens.
time rotates in a downward degree
360 degrees infinitely,
but the days are confined to finite.
and if i could, i'd connect the 12 lines
and walk along them endlessly.
i'd lose the ability to dream
and i'd never have to mingle
with the cousin of death.
living forever as a verb,
until time laps around the track
about 10 million times before
it has lost its legs.
i don't wanna sleep,
i want to dream
in an empirical reality.
hold the old time in my hand
and let the prospect bleed
into the prophecy.
These Faded KeysOf all the keys I click
As we speak each day,
It's the back arrow
That's faded most
These white letters
Would surely tell you,
I reply to everything -
But the key reading "enter"
Will be the one to explain
Why it still looks new
I want you to know
Just how much I care,
But I don't want to be close
Out of the fear of losing you
But please remember:
I dedicate these words to you,
Sharing them to the world
Rather than clicking away
At the faded key ~
Tonight, I finished a roll of toilet paper
that I had started
a month, 8 days,
two hours, and 21 minutes ago.
Its genesis, June 11th,
one of the worst nights of my life,
I took a roll from my small bathroom,
and silently tucked it under my arm.
I couldn't let my girls know.
They couldn't know
I was going to use this as my broom.
They couldn't know
that I swept my shattered heart
under my bed.
And I wept.
My pillow taking my abuse,
my suffocation and my attacks.
My fingers squeezing it for dear life
and my knuckles as I punched it,
imagining it was her.
Then hugging it.
I only cried that hard
when I was about 6.
She was gone.
And so was I.
I cried every night
which would've marked
our 7-month anniversary.
And in the late days of that month,
I lied to myself.
And for that,
I regret every moment.
I wasn't ready.
At least I stopped it,
before we drowned each other
like the last woman.
Two weeks lat
All I Need Is MeYou fell asleep.
I fell from grace.
I think it best of we give each other,
Some much needed space.
This isn't the end.
It's just a step that we must take,
So our relationship has time to mend.
I still love you.
I just need to breathe.
I know I said I wouldn't leave,
So I won't.
Just give me some time.
You'll still be mine,
But distance makes it so very hard.
I know this is a major cliché,
But I'll say it anyway.
It's not you.
In the future we can be,
But right now,
All I need is me.
Keep in Touch!