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Sweet LilacDecember 25th
As I stroll through the gates, the chilly winter air stirs around my scarf and hair. How is it where you are? I suppose it isn't quite as cold. I have to double up on the layers, wearing a sweatshirt underneath my winter coat. It still has yet to snow here, though. I remember when we used to play in the snow. You loved throwing snowballs at my head until mom yelled at you.
The leaves still float down from the trees, as though they continue to hang on for dear life. How sweet it seems now. I used to watch you rake the leaves from the kitchen window, remember? I would be in the warm house, preparing hot cocoa for you when you finished. You like yours with lots of whipped cream and marshmallows, and even some cinnamon. I get mine like that now. I like to pretend I’m still sharing it with you.
The few stems of lilac in my hand quiver with the breeze. Mom told me they stand for joy of youth. I figured that would be per
Sinking Beneath the WavesIf I could sink beneath the waves
I perhaps would be rather content
For you see, the ships that sail above
Know nothing of the ocean itself
The deep blue waters are peaceful and relaxed
As the sailors and surfers would say
But I can sink beneath the waves
I know there is another story to tell
The foamy whitecaps that swirl above
They tell but another myth
That the ocean itself is just as what it seems to be
All water and no depth
But the blue sea cannot be clear
Or else the secrets would fall through
If you learn to sink beneath the waves
You’d know just how beautiful it is.
Inside, and out.
Lies.What are words to you
Nonsense scrawled across a page
A space filler of sorts
The hiding place for lies
Lies that you will not dare stain your tongue with.
Memories recorded down
Fingers stained in ink
The words you said
The promises you made
The lies you told
All of these locked deep within my heart
And in my brain I keep them
For they hide the bitter truth I dared not reach for
Though I could see it
The stains on my own fingers show not me
They show what you wanted me to be
Show what I tried to become
And what I could not master.
But these red stains will change
Will become what I am
And your own marks already show
They show the bitter truth of the false face you show
Of the tales you tell
Of the claims to innocence
And I will try and muster all of my courage
Just to prove my worth.
Little MockingbirdOh little mockingbird,
Please be strong
The other birds
They know the words
But won't sing along
Oh little mockingbird,
You haven't failed yet
Crow and dove
They fly above
There's no need to fret
Oh little mockingbird,
The skies are still blue
Though the eagle cries
The heron lies
And they laugh at you
Oh little mockingbird,
Your wings may be small
But you are bold
And you won't fall
So oh little mockingbird,
Please stay strong
The other birds
They know the words
So sing your sweet song
Shrouded by the shadows
A wispy veil enchanted with secrets
Hide my insecurities
It hides the fact
That my wingspan is too short
To reach my dreams
Icy black chills down my spine
The fears that have been creeping
Still out of sight.
HopeHope is nothing but a dream
Spun with silken stars under the twilight sky
Hope is nothing but fantasy
Sewn piece by piece of the fabrics of myth
Hope is nothing but lies
A blanket of falsehood
Only used for the sake
Of keeping our cold hearts
I, Too, Have a StoryI, too, can make stories
I can scribble them down
On loose sheets of notebook paper
My pencil in my hand
And I can form the words
Like a puzzle in my head
And piece them one by one
On the blank canvas in front of me
Not only for myself, but for readers
Readers all across the world
Pages turning and smiles forming
Inspiring those who read
Inspiring them to write
Just as I
They will understand what it means
To get your thoughts out to the world
I, too, have a story
Stunning SilverStunning silver stripes your skin
Red rivers flow and flee
The bitter tears taint you cheeks
As sorrowful sadness consumes your soul
Depressed thoughts deepen your doubts
Pleads and promises are in the past
Love, like lies, never last
CHIME Chapter 1CHIME
Lafayette has had enough. She sits on her bed with her knees pulled up to her chest. She rests both her arms on her knees, and buries her face into them. She has been sitting like this for half an hour.
She lifts her head and looks in the mirror. She sees her pale, freckled face, stained with tears. Her long, jet black hair is tangled in a mess. The sleeves of her shirt are wet from her crying.
She wonders why it has to be like this. Why does she always feel so empty and sad inside? Why does everything have to go wrong? Why can’t she live a regular, peaceful, and happy life?
It all frustrates her. From her fighting parents, to being neglected and left alone by her friends, she can’t seem to find a shard of happiness left inside her fragile heart.
The teenage girl's eyes are weary from crying. Her throat aches and she coughs, only making
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.
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
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
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
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
The Sounds Are ConfiningDarkness fills the space.
The fog pours in.
She feels like a waste.
Impossible to win.
A stab in the back.
A blow to the pride.
A soul painted black.
And nowhere to hide.
Happiness is torn.
Her heart is pounding.
Her patience is worn.
The sounds are confining.
She's feeling trapped.
Her eyes are shining.
Her heart is snapped.
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