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Fading Shades of GreyDearest reader, please think twice before you try to speak
Words can be like knives that cause the victim to grow weak
Thoughts can be as bullets shooting freely through the sky
Injuring the innocent with every spoken lie
Please forget my laughter, please forget my broken heart
Please do not remember how you tore my life apart
Leave me as a memory that slowly fades to grey
Spend your days as usual, and I shall fade away
Listen to my cry for help, although it is too late
I've become the monster that you struggled to create
Trying to be perfect was a wonderful mistake…
Now I mustn't worry about which chance I will take.
Please erase all memory of who I tried to be
Please do not remember how I tried to be set free
Please do not be saddened under any circumstance …
What's makes now so different from when you still had a chance?
In a Little Girl's MindThere sits the girl with the things in her eyes
Monsters, destruction, and sweet butterflies
Hopscotch and daisies, surrounded by screams
Beautiful dresses now torn at the seams
Crayons and paintbrushes, villains and grins
Young, gladsome innocence, hatred and sins
Little red houses on roads left to fade
Gorgeous moonlight shining off of the blade
Blood pouring out as she cries her own name
Knowing she's forced to take each bit of blame
She could have stopped it and left it behind
All of these things in her troubled young mind
She could have saved them if she dared to try
Rather, though, she left herself there to die.
Now, others watch as she sits on the ground
Keeping their distance and letting her drown
In her own worries and things she won't tell
Waiting for her mind to kill her as well…
I'm Fine"Are you okay?"
No. I'm dying. I have to push myself to wake up in the morning, and when I finally do, I want to go back to sleep. Even my best dreams are becoming nightmares. I can't taste food, I can't stand the things I used to love. I'm breaking. I'm fading. I'm dying.
Liquid ChainsLiquid chains hold onto me like darkness of the night
Armor, swords, and helmets from the times of death and fright
Paper used to save me in the darkest of all times
Letting out my anger in a silly mess of rhymes
Damaged by the memories of all I've never done
Ruined by the echoes, for the torture has begun.
Capture me with lies and tear me down with words of gold
Platinum and silver hold the stories left untold
Armor made of paper, as the moonlight fades to black
Liquid chains hold onto me, and I cannot fight back…
Watch your oldest storybooks now slowly come to life
Giants rule the kingdoms with their shining silver knife
Princesses are locked in towers, skies do turn to grey
Knights in shining armor take their swords and turn away
Wondrous, sparkling forests die away in crystal rain
Hush the youngest children, for today they die in pain.
Watch your oldest storybooks become a haunting thought
Blood upon the pretty gowns and bodies left to rot
Hush the youngest children for the greatest of all crimes
Let them see that stories aren't just once upon a time...
Skies of GreyShadows burn beneath my soul
Into a life you'll never know
This is what i'm forced to be
Through the world's eternity
Demon on the wall
I hear your angry call
So sink into my thought
And let me breathe again
Let me win the war and
Fight the silver swords and
I'll release the demon
I have kept within
Tell my every villain
I have found a way
I can see solutions
Skies of grey...
HeartbeatThough these words are dreaded, I feel it is time to say
All the things I never told you since we died away
All the things I liked the most, the things that made you real
These thoughts must be spoken for my broken heart to heal
Sure, I hate the feeling rushing through my broken veins
Every piece of lost emotion, every bit of pain
Even though this emptiness is cradling my soul
All that haunts me now is how I let it take control
All the tears, the madness, how I let it overrule
To my own existence, I myself have been so cruel
Never did I dare to say these words of lonely truth
Even though I know that isolation kills one's youth…
Here I am to say something I should have said before
Rather than refusing, simply shutting solid doors
Ever since you left me, all I think about is us
Every drop of moonlight seems to me like specks of dust
Ever since you vanished, yes, I've been vanishing too…
Each and every heartbeat is an angry cry for you…
Dark DisguiseFeel the broken heartbeats ripping through your troubled soul
Tearing through your very skin to take complete control
Hear the words among your tongue through voices not your own
Slicing through the air and fighting for the golden throne
Sorrowful, you disappear into the shadows thick
Blanketing yourself with thoughts so cruel, so cold, so sick
Knowing that if only you had someone to be near
Every aching memory would likely disappear
Shattered bits of moonlight shine upon the broken earth
Proving once again how much an echo may be worth
Let the damaged hearts unite and save them from the lies
Let them see that love is not always a dark disguise…
And So Went The Bullet"Really, I'm sorry, I don't have a choice
After I do this, they might hear my voice
After the bullet is coated in red
All my unspoken words will have been said."
"Please, put it back, set it down on the floor
Though you feel you cannot take anymore
All that I ask is that you'll see the sun
Rather that treating your wounds with the gun."
Slowly, I stared into his tearful eyes
Holding the weapon with my last goodbyes.
"Sweetheart, I thought you should be first to know
Yes, I am sorry, but I must let go."
Holding the trigger and ready to shoot
Ready to end this destructive dispute…
"Baby, I'm begging, too many love you…"
And so went the bullet… for I loved him too.
I am.... Stereotyped.I am.... a nerd.
I wear glasses,
I play in the band,
I get good grades,
Like video games,
I'm weak and spineless
But so much smarter than people
I am.... an outcast.
I dress funny,
I act weird,
There's something wrong
Inside my head.
I'm too dumb
To understand people
I am.... an art freak.
I doodle over everything,
Dress a little different,
I am always colorful
And pretty happy,
I see the world
Differently than people
I am.... a gay guy.
I talk like a girl,
I just adore the color pink,
Oh, and I'm going to Hell.
I have no morals,
And instead I have AIDS
And should be kept from people
I am.... emo.
I dress in black,
Have sidesweep bangs,
And cut myself
Because life sucks.
I hate my life and
My parents and people
I am.... a prep.
I am mean and neast
I love drama
I am perfect and
Way better than people
I am.... a jock.
I play sports
Like wrestling or football.
I have no brain,
Definition of a Writerwrit•er
A writer is a person
Who sees the world differently
From a high perspective of understanding
To an easily balanced imagery
They stand at the edge of the cliff
And run that extra mile
To gain what a normal person cannot see
And to obtain the hope that they wish to cherish
A writer is a person
Who buries their ego and places boulders upon it
They learn the rules, follow the rules, and will break the rules
And make writing their own
They lay upon the dusty old ground of a graveyard
And do an annual ritual to free the inspiration that has been pinned down
They want to show their abnormality to everyone around
And make this journey an unforgettable experience
Writers are masters of inspiration
And will set aside whatever may ruin the ecstasy of their writing
Which they will forever embrace
And will fight to claim the title author
In their world of words
Their stories are set free
Some are killed to b
Let Them In.With my back to the door
I can’t help but fall to the floor
Out of breath, out of time
Out of sight, out of my mind
They’re tempting me; they lead astray
They mark my words; I am their prey
I can’t fight them anymore
So let them in and end this war
Leave me to my demons
Let them have at me
And strip me of my reasons
To ever be happy
I am broken enough
So that they fit in the cracks
I never wanted to be this
But now there’s no turning back
Let them take control
Because without you in my life
This is how a person like myself
Can ever become whole.
Why I Stopped WritingHere's a little story about me,
about my skill to paint a grim little scene,
to make the mind creak,
to talk of those things which we don't like to speak.
I was a girl of sixteen and I had a dream,
to exist so broken hearted that I would know,
know to the core,
that love was as real as I thought it should have been.
I was dramatic to say the least and wrote poems spanning ages,
wrote of crashed cars and seeing those eyes again later,
FEELING that stare,
knowing that though time had passed,
he'd not actually gone anywhere.
English class came,
seemed so lame,
most days in the back with the boys,
getting out of work with the most clever ploys.
Then one day the teacher said,
we could share our writing,
with all the others,
to my in
I Am a WriterI am a writer.
Yes, it’s easy for me to fall into a dream.
But there is nothing wrong with being tighter
With a story’s theme.
I am a writer.
That is all I will ever want to be
In the end, my story will be lighter,
And my characters will finally be free.
I am a writer.
There is nothing easier to say than that.
I will never let a story wither
Nor let a story fall flat
I am a soon to be author.
With several books ready to be read,
I want them to have great honor
And wish there will be tears shed.
Bottled Up EmotionsMy emotions are all bottled up.
The only emotion that you are allowed to see is happiness.
Not anger, sadness, envy or any other emotions.
I talk a lot to ignore my bottled up emotions and show a bright happy girl.
I even walk around like everything's alright but I end up realizing everything isn't alright.
These people obvious in believing that I'm really this happy.
My emotions are all bottled up.
Sometimes I sit and wait till I build up enough anger or sadness before I explode.
Is that good for my health you say?
The answer to that is no,
but I have no way to express my emotions in a nicer way.
So as I wait, I keep myself busy with writing, drawing and keeping up with my very vivid imagination.
The thing about my vivid imagination is that I dream of a better life and what I want my future to be like.
In the end though, I sadly release that that wont happen.
And then I cry.
My emotions are all bottled up.
Sometimes, instead of waiting to explode I cry in private.
Suppressed BrillianceAm I insane or philosophical?
Are my theories minute or astronomical?
Irrelevant or significant?
Are the machinations of my brain,
Foolish or magnificent?
Thank God that I am resilient,
Because you have been suppressing my brilliance,
All this time telling me that I am crazy,
But you were wrong all along,
Failing to see that I fit the pieces,
Of life’s puzzle together differently,
To compose a unique song,
Just because you don’t understand,
My thought process,
Doesn’t mean that you are smarter than me,
Watch me create a wonder,
And you shall see….
ConstructDelving into the origins
Of what makes an individual
Who are you? Who am I?
There’s a lack of understanding,
Yet we jump to judge
And claim to know
That which we could never understand
Attempts are seldom made
To investigate the unknown
To strive to discover
Those we claim to know
From the inside out
Extract the innermost thoughts
In place there is an idealist mirage
To which our beliefs shall cling to
In desperation, or disbelief
It’s the construct of our mindset
That leads us all astray
Life Sucks, So DieI may not be nice,
I may not be kind,
But there is something
On my mind.
It is something
That I must share;
It is the reason
Why life isn't fair.
Life may not be kind,
Life may not be nice,
But it is what it is and that
Has to suffice.
We don't get a choice;
Life is just this
And we are forced to rejoice.
We must be thankful
For every and all
awesome and awful;
The rise and the fall.
It could be worse,
You could be in a hearse,
But what if that's what you want?
What if that's you're dream;
If it makes you smile and beam?
Then you're an outcast,
And the won't let you leave.
And your life just got worse.
EscapeEmpty twisted promises within a world so dead
Memories of heartache cradle thoughts inside my head
Wounds continue bleeding on forgotten storybooks
Listen to your nightmares and the happiness they took
Can't you see the shadows with the knives inside their hands?
Watching you as they invade your secret wonderland
Silence won't protect you from the thoughts inside your mind
Nobody can save you from the torture on rewind
I can't see the people, but they're always seeing me
Anywhere and everywhere… they never let me be
Sometimes they stand quietly behind my bedroom door
Sometimes it's the microphones they hide under the floor
Sometimes it's the cameras in the ceilings or the wall
This time it's the photo frames… they'll kill me if they fall.
Everybody tells me that it's all inside my head
All I'll ever know is that I'm better if I'm dead
Maybe it's imagination gone completely wrong
If it's just my own creations, why are they so strong?
Maybe I can fight the tears and other things I dread
Teenage TaoismGiving birth is the closest I’d ever felt to dying.
Before that, my near death experiences had consisted only of my silent announcement of pregnancy—silent, being that my social media accounts were all deleted almost simultaneously and I never returned to school in the fall, saying without really saying that I had caught the malicious disease of “teenage pregnancy”. I’m sure the whisper spread in the hallways like the Bubonic Plague. That September, sitting at home on what would have been the first day of my senior year, I imagined friends I’d never talk to again saying “she was only seventeen, and so full of life!” at my absence in the cafeteria tables, as if they were attending my funeral instead of talking about me behind my back.
"Full of life," I had snorted then, folding a never ending stream of what had once been my own baby clothes. "Literally."
I walked around like a zombie for the months of my pregnancy, deciding t
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