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TalkTalk talk talk
That's what people do
Talk talk talk
So why can't I?
Talk talk talk
I wish I could
Talk talk talk
But who would talk to me anyways?
Halloween Twas Halloween morning, the air filled with the scent of rising evil, the atmosphere preparing itself for what was to come. The trees started to lose their leaves in fear and the plants withered. The wind blew stronger naively believing that it could simply blow away it away. The temperature dropped like an anvil from a cliff. The once long happy long summer days transitioned into the short, cold miserable days. As the evil continued to terrorize nature, it decided to start the real battle; against nature’s inhabitants. Some slept, deciding to have it just be a bad dream.
”Halloween,” The woman murmured, “The night when things happen, strange things. Tis the night of my birth, the night of my death, and the night of my rise,” She continued to look down upon the world as she slowly woke from her slumber. She commanded her army with an iron fist. Moth
A MonsterA monster
You turn away
You look back
You're forever lost
Haven't decided a nameI used to dream.
I used to dream my prince would come,
he would save me from myself, my twisted, depressed, ugly self
But he never came
I used to dream
I used to dream I'd grow up,
I'd become a doctor
I'd help people, make them better
But now I won't
I used to dream that
I used to dream that I'd be able to dance
I'd dance & dance flawlessly across the floor
But that'll never happen
But now those dreams are gone
Contest entryI'm deleting entries from my journal. So I decided to put this as a deviation instead
For :iconpurple-pony-of-choas:'s contest
A heart of a pig
I loved her
She tossed them
Saying I was a fool to think she would ever even consider a single step with me.
Why must a heart of a pig be what she have?
of being portrayed as a fool
of her rudeness
So I cut her heart out, to make it mine.
And replaced it
Something...Journals / Personal
I remember it all.
Laying in the meadow, thinking of what fate had in store.
in summer's golden sun.
When a princess became 16,
Happily ever after in other words.
And there I lay thinking that would happen to me
But I was wrong.
It's Okay to be ImperfectThe moon
Stand Against SuicideI know the pain is perhaps unbearable,
But darling, please put down the blade.
Release your emotions through tears and smiles,
Rather than dreading these days.
Do it for the little girl, whose mother can’t be there,
Or for the boy whose father drank too much.
For the boy who can’t sit in elementary school,
Because the bruises from Daddy hurt to touch.
For the teenage girl lying face down in her bed,
Thinking, why can’t it all be done?
For the elderly man looking up at the stars,
Counting the days one by one.
Do it for the children who wonder, does it end?
For the ones who feel left on their own.
For the ones who think, maybe it wouldn’t be so hard
If I didn’t feel so left alone.
And finally, do it for one other person,
The person in front of these words.
Because you’ll never know how it gets better
When focusing on pain and hurt.
Live one more day, dear, for them and for you,
And I swear to you, problems will fade.
I know, for right now, it’s p
Unable to loveMy love was pure
I only wanted
But my heart
Because my love
Like a piece of garbage
And now I'm unable
Because the shreds
Of my shattered soul
I Thought I Needed FeminismI thought I needed feminism, when I was a little girl.
And I am very sad to admit, that this wasn't very long ago.
I thought when he held the door open for me, that he was making a big mistake.
That he was being a pompous ass, and he took my strength for a fake.
And when he offered to pay my tab, I still called him an ass.
Because I thought he assumed I was poor, and below middle class.
Or when his hard work earned him a promotion,
yet I did nothing, and the boss' ignorance to promote me, I believed was a sexist notion.
My friend really wanted feminism when she found her ex-dead drunk,
removed his clothes, and without his consent, had a pleasurable fuck.
When her parents bust into the room unexpected that night,
she said he raped her, and he was arrested without so much as a fight.
Perhaps feminism was there when I walked out into the street in pure nudity,
and shouted the my neighbors “You have no right to judge me!”
I didn't care about the children who were standing in th
MathematicsI am but the sum of my
F L A W S;
a network of
S C A R S
a disaster of
D R E A M S
a shield of
B O N E S
C A L C U L A T I O N
a void of
to the girl i lose my words aroundi have been meaning to tell you for years:
i think you’re beautiful. i have
seen nothing on earth that holds a candle
to the ocean you carry inside your body.
it spills over your edges sometimes, like
a rain shower around you, blurring your penciled-in
lines until there is nothing left of you but your natural
cliffs, valleys, and deserts.
i like that.
i have never met someone who is, somehow,
a sea and a storm at the same time.
maybe i never will again.
maybe you are the only one
who gathers clouds on her forehead
like a promise, or feels the push and pull of the tide
with her every step.
you are beautiful, honestly.
you are honest, beautifully.
it is in the way you talk, the way you hold ice
on your tongue but forget to use it—
you always forget to use it, i don’t think
you know how.
to be truthful, i’m afraid of your smile
and how it breaks over me, how it pulls
me like a whirlpool down, how it pushes me
like a current back to the surface. i’m afraid of
DifferentDifferent on the outside,
Different mask you see daily,
Different girl you call ‘Hailey’
To my surprise
Your ears are distracted,
So I tell lies, looking into your eyes,
“Yea I’m fine. Simply tired”
For that response my brain is wired.
Different mouth you hear speaking,
Different voice you hear screaming
Different eyes you see pleading,
Different person you’d befriended
I’m sorry this is how it’s ended.
My Name and StoryYou might know my name
For it is occasionally said
But you don't know my story
You might have heard someone else's version
But what do they know about me?
I feel like a mystery,
Waiting to be solved
A closed book
Waiting for someone to open me
Because I'm sitting on the shelf collecting dust
With nothing to do but wait
My story is mine and mine alone
It is both tragic and joyous
But with a twist
I could tell it to you
But would you understand?
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