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InternetWe would talk face to face;
Not screen to screen.
But still you bring us together;
Joined are the nations across the seas.
We would read books,
Hear the voice of one
But still you are the bringer of free speech;
We hear the voices of many.
We have many faults,
You may be one.
But still and for now,
you are the people,
and the people you.
To DoI've a never ending list,
of things I should probably do.
The question is do I want to;
The answer probably not
The InnocentAll is not lost.
They can be saved.
Their hearts, so pure;
Their minds, so free.
No one will touch them;
They will learn for themselves.
Hidden YouYou hide behind your logic
We must read between those lines,
To define you is impossible
As you don't show.
You follow how you should be,
Not as you wish.
Your views are stolen
Taken from a higher source,
You are not your own,
You only think,
Your maturity grows sweet
From the childhood you never had,
You are beginning to unravel,
Your world, crashing
Falling off the frail truths you told,
You will one day learn
ExposureThere are so many reasons to pick a four leafed clover.
There are so many reasons to cry and die and fight over.
There are so many reasons to let my pulse have a different composer.
There are so many reasons to smile and laugh and stay sober.
There are so many reasons why I can't love her.
The Empty ChairThe evening breeze and the extra cup,
A lonely shadow upon the ceiling
And all things “destined” on the up:
Absent from a funeral of feeling.
The cloak of a Sunday in the sun;
Each passing taxi reeks of a plan:
In lieu of nothing, the day is won
Affords to think a better man.
Killing moments, playing tag with the mind:
The first paramour of pagan day;
A second honeymoon of lost fears can find
A love for that familiar blue Bombay.
The erratic world can be rather still:
A man and his betrothed corner of air
A deadbeat verse on a diner bill
Wooing the crevices of the empty chair.
my everyday voices in my headwhy am i not pretty
why am i ugly
why am i much a waste of space
why do i what to die
why do i fell so dead inside
why did i go wrong
why do i have no friend
why am i alone
why am i hurt
why am i fat
why do people like to push me
why do people like to see me in pain
why can't i look like others there pretty
why did god make me ugly usless and worthless
why dose everyone hate me
why dose everyone giggle and laugh at me and call me fat and tell me to die
why am i not dead
why did this happen to me
i need to cut
i need to overdose pills
i can't tell anyone
i hate life
i hate myself
i hate everything
UntitledNo. I can't believe this. Why am I happy? I have good grades and friends and things I don't deserve. I'm suspicious. Life never lets me be happy like this! I don't know what'll happen, but I know this won't last.
me siento sola, abatida sin ganas de ver a nadie y me pongo a pensar....
¿Porque es asi?
Aveces pienso... que en en realidad no hay nadie que me comprenda realmente y tan vez es asi...
Aveces siento que nadie me escucha que soy invisible y eso aveces puede ser bueno pero la soledad aveces puede ser mejor que la compañia... asi no tenidria a nadie que me criticara los conosca o no, es mas doloroso no escucharlo...
No lo se, no se por que siento que todavia no he encontrado a esa persona que me comprenda que me entienda que pueda entenderme con solo mirarme, aveces las personas me preguntan que tengo sin saber ni siquiera mi exprecion, tal vez por que me ven callada o seria y en realidad no me entienden y por eso digo que no hay con quien pueda tener una coneccion, alguien que en verdad me entienda, que con tan solo mirarme a los ojos me diga lo que siento que sea esa persona que me entienda de verdad, es por eso que aveces me siento como un fantasma, ese es uno d
HopeYou are my love, my light,
that shines bright upon me,
gives me hope at night
that tomorrow will be,
My love, I await for that day
where you'll reach out
& finnaly come out and say
it. And I don't doubt
that you're gay xD
Please tell me your weakness,
please say it out loud.
Please let me whitness
the power when you shout
Please, you're not alone.
I may be small, I may be weak,
but no matter, you've always known
that I'm not afraid to seek
to find the unknown
Now, look at me cause I demand!
We will walk this road and feel some pain
cause for no longer we will stand,
but experience we will gain,
hand in hand
I don't want any doubt or guess,
I want you close, to hold me,
look me in the eye and say "Yes"
and finally, we will be
away from this mess
Scoliosis of an AdolescentIt hurts so much
To get up in the morning
Clutching your back is a normal R O U T I N E.
When your friends all complain of their pain
And you put on a smile when you're actually
Please Let Me Break.If you let me fall,
I will break.
I will not catch myself.
I want to fall.
Let me fall.
I don’t want to live in this world.
But I will.
For the people I will never know.
For the people who need me.
For the people who love me.
I promise I will never fall.
The Red Scarf
He always wore black suits.
“No personality,” they say,
“No feelings,” they say.
But in the winter,
When the days become cold,
He dons a scarf
That is as red as the blood
That flows freely
Through his veins.
People don’t see it,
People don’t know it,
That scarf changes his pallor.
From pasty white
To rosy red,
From black and white death,
To colorful life.
That scarf changes his mood.
From dark and detached,
To open and free,
From “No personality,”
That beautiful scarf,
Though worn and old,
Is a warm feeling,
Just not literally…
on old sanzu - absolutely true fictionlast fall i stole my friend down by the tama river. we sang. we danced. we skipped dead fish like rocks and watched them get swallowed by the undertow. we got sick off of bad chinese food and went skinny-dipping and then a week later she drowned herself.
her uncle was a yakuza, i think, but he really just wanted to be al pacino or something. anyway, she loved him a lot. maybe that’s why she went down the way she went down; cement shoes. not real cement, but it was the same idea. she had two cloth bags with yellow-painted cinderblocks inside, and they were tied to her ankles like the prisoners’ chains from o brother where art thou.
in my mind’s eye i can see her, limping dreadfully close to the edge of the current, her left hand gripping at her breasts through a loose t-shirt. kneeling by the wastelands, elbows in the gravel, crawling forward out into the water. angry like a dermis under wool, all teeth and salt and sand. sleepy, submissive, sublimated.
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^Nyx-Valentine arrived in our community and started whipping everyone into a frenzy with her relentless desire to bring the Artistic Nude and Fetish galleries to the fore. 9 years later, and it's safe to say that Nyx is not only a leader as a photographer in these galleries, but she has also established herself as a much saught after model. ^... Read More