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Learn To Be StrongThis is normally the time when the tears come
When the words hurt and the bruises sting
But little did they know you have grown inside
Now you are immune to their bullying
The chances are that they may have suffered too
But this is no reason to be so vile
Now you’re twelve angry men finding them guilty
Of stealing your taut, tremulous smile
This is normally the time when you tremble
Huddle yourself up into a ball
But the only spherical shape they’ll be seeing
Is the flail as it maims and appals
The chances are that you will shatter their skull
And with that become as bad as them
Where were their morals when you were the victim?
You just want good old fashioned revenge
This is normally the time you’re rendered silent
But today you’ve at last found your voice
Now both weapon and word are lay beside you
You are no beast, you’ll make the right choice
And the chances are that when they’re confronted
The shamed predator will know they’ve done wrong
Can't Find JoyI stole the smiles from both of my parent’s faces
The very same one I was responsible for
On the day I was delivered into their arms
In a cloth, from the beak of a black feathered stork
From the very first day with my very first breath
Though I was not able to speak a single word
It was evident as the nurses bowed their heads
That this boy with the dilated pupils was cursed
Everything I’ve ever grown to love and desire
In one way or another I have now destroyed
Yet still I have the temerity to question
Why it is that I can never seem to find joy
I stole the smiles from both of my parent’s faces
I would do anything at all to give them back
But some wicked actions can never be undone
And some statements I have made I cannot retract
Regardless of the depths that I sank or swam to
Whether I was responsible for what was wrong
My lugubrious mood could always be soothed
With memories of the black feathered stork’s bird song
Every page my trembling hand has ever turned
Suicide Is Not An OptionI find myself weaving the final stitches
Of a noose I have been working on for a while
I swore I’d use it by the time it was complete
If me and my sanity hadn’t reconciled
Each thread representing a flawed emotion
Which tightly woven together makes up my life
If you’re the one to cut me down from the rafters
Love, patience and understanding must be your knife
I find myself with a gun in my right hand
With only one bullet left in the cold chamber
I hand the loaded pistol with safety off
Blindly in to the hands of a complete stranger
Does this represent me opening my heart
And risking a life of abject, dismal sorrow
This God given gift of love is worth the risk
And cupid’s bullets can pierce deeper than arrows
I find myself perched on the edge of a cliff
And at this point in time I am feeling unsure
If the wind that’s blowing me towards the verge
Is real or in fact just another metaphor
That is representing all of the worries
Which try to push me to the seas
An Ode To A SmileOf late there has been something missing
From my visage, my mien and my face
My adult self not able to regain
What it is my childhood has misplaced
The absence has become more apparent
And is there for the assemblage to see
But as it did not happen over night
The origin remains a mystery
Could it be the colour and the tone
Of my sallow skin pigmentation
From too many hours indoors alone
And within my imagination
Perhaps I should pierce my ear and nose
Rebel against a faceless system
Or indeed tattoo text upon my neck
Quoting some so-called ancient wisdom
I could iron out all of the creases
Nip and tuck on my pronounced cheek bones
But this would mean erasing my journey
So I might never find my way home
And none of these things in any case
Will ever change the person that I am
Or influence the mood of the others
Like a timely facial expression can
From limbic system to nerve and muscle
To the countenance conveyed on my face
So complex that even Mona Lisa’s mood
Took over four year
Her Daily MasqueradeToday her parents ask how her day has been
By now the answer has been well rehearsed
She insists to them that everything is fine
But the reality is the reverse
In fact she’s the antonym of the word ‘fine’
This is due to her creatively cursed mind
Steeped in a world of such simplicity
Yesterday friends asked how she has been coping
Waiting for their turn to talk, do they care?
They just see a happy, contented princess
Not a pensive, vacant, glazed over stare
In fact she’s the opposite of contented
Restless and at war with reality
Battling feelings of alienation
From unsupportive friends and family
Tomorrow strangers will ask her what is wrong
But in white lies she has become well versed
Knowing that the tar black pit of torrid truth
Will not dilute and only make things worse
She’s living the antonym of the word ‘truth’
But her lies are not designed to betray
Just to cover the cracks and to smother those
Tragic AuthorI’m looking forward to being a tragic author
I’ll sit on a cloud with no silver lining
And become the male equivalent of a spinster
With words as my spouse and books as my offspring
At least then it is I who will control the outcome
For the lives of my heroes and heroines
And since I’ll not be afforded a happy ending
The least I can do is to give one to them
The Lord said ‘no’ to my happily ever after
Perhaps to inspire my imagination
A hollowed out heart is an ideal home after all
For my mind’s perpetual inspiration
I’m looking forward to being a tragic author
I’m such a devoted, hopeless romantic
Devoted in the sense I should have been committed
And hopeless as I took our love for granted
I dare you to keep the anguish and torment coming
As it will serve to inspire my greatest work
Assuming my heart pumps love more efficiently than pain
And my mind can refrain from going berserk
Now I sit in frustration with my parchment paper
The ink o
Target WeightI am afraid because I know
That I will never arrive
At a point where I am nourished
And emotionally satisfied
So to regulate my mood
I consume levels that disgrace
They suppose that this is greed
That assumption is misplaced
I’m addicted to the feeling
The short term stimulation
But that only makes me more prone
To those feelings of deflation
And stomach cramps and pains
Loose skin hanging from my bones
Eyes sinking into my skull
And those deathly grey skin tones
Will I ever fill the hole
Silence those voices for a while
I prepare my gut for sorrow
While I am spoon fed on denial
But life’s too much to digest
An acid reflux episode
Regurgitate my memories
Before my stomach explodes
In a culture such as ours
The blame lays nowhere but my plate
I chose the fats, sugars and salts
The impossible target weight
Now I’m afraid because I know
The end has already arrived
In the form of this addiction
To a staple we need to survive
When I Was 13I am just a little boy in a grown man’s shell
Who finds himself lost in a daydream
That my mind manifested one Monday morning
On the cusp of being aged thirteen
Sitting on a plastic chair in a stale classroom
Looking out of the rain lashed window
Thoughts turn to the length of my imagination
And indeed what distance it could go
I was snapped back to reality as always
With my tank topped teacher's booming cry
This was not the first, nor would it be the last time
I would find myself preoccupied
Classmates around me may live their life linear
Like most people who have gone before
But I can’t see the point of a mind’s vast landscape
If I am not going to explore
I am just a little boy in a grown man’s shell
Who’s become lost in a lonely life
For me reality had not been the ruler
But it most certainly had been rife
Sitting on a leather chair in a stale office
Looking out of the sun starved window
My imagination was plotting it's escape
Leaving no clues to where
Fear of LifePlease do not fear being beneath the Earth’s soil
For that is where the seeds of flowers grow
Be patient and life will reveal its mysteries
But only when it is ready to do so
By all means take time to search for the truth
But beware, please do not become obsessed
As we only fear what we don’t understand
And what we don’t understand is but a test
A test of faith in whatever you believe
Now stand up for yourself and you cannot fail
If life is the hammer waiting to fall
Then you must refuse to be the nail
Please do not fear being above the Earth’s soil
For that is where the flowers begin to bloom
Just open your heart as their petals do
And your life will be as sweet as their perfume
You could be the change in someone’s journey
Showing them the path from incomplete to whole
Why not give someone the gift of your love
And watch as they gently unwrap your soul
Suddenly the truth will dawn upon you
To live life without fear and you cannot fail
If life is a sailboa
As Death ApproachedAs death approached, the girl just smiled.
"You've kept me waiting for quite a while."
He wonders "Shouldn't death you fear?"
"I've always thought that death was near."
The girl turned away to sink what she said.
"I have always felt I was already dead.
I float through this world without a care.
It's almost like I'm not really there.
So, no I'm not afraid of no longer being.
You can see that I'm already nothing."
Death just nodded. What she said was true.
"Regardless it is time for me to take you."
The girl stood up, all ready to go.
An afterlife she thought, wasn't likely to show.
Death did his duty, and took her away.
The girl finally had her awaited day.
It swallows you whole,
Exceeds your control.
Apprehends your soul,
Until it has taken its toll.
It’s an overwhelming feeling.
That is made to be appealing
And you can’t help revealing,
The doubts you are concealing.
It’s an undefined dimple
And a well known jingle.
But only when you are single
Does it all seem so simple.
It is one of life’s many gifts,
That empowers and uplifts
And can lead you adrift.
Should you miss your shift.
It is impossible to describe it.
It is impossible to fight it.
Because once it is ignited
And once you have tried it.
It will take your independence.
You will become used to its presence.
You will become addicted to its essence
And include it at the end of your every sentence.
It exists even in the hearts of its haters.
It is a taste even they will savour
And although its duration wavers.
There will never be a feeling that is greater.
Everything I have said and more.
I am merely repeating what you already know.
AloneA dark feeling waves over me.
Right now it's all that I can see.
I look around, but no one's here.
Being alone is my deepest fear.
I try to get out and see what's around.
But not a single friend to be found.
They smile politely, but it's not real.
They don't understand how I feel.
If nothing else at least there's some away.
But when we talk there's nothing to say.
I try to speak, but nobody's there.
I just want someone to show that they care.
My old friendships just seem to die.
I wonder if I should even try.
When I do, I feel so much worse.
This empty feeling is such a curse.
Maybe I should just stop trying.
Maybe that can stop me from crying.
Little Red HousesLittle red house on the corner left to fade
Tire swing swaying above a sparkling blade
Silver gown, just for the hour
Starts out sweet then you taste the sour
A little girl's heart doesn't last for long
When a little girl gone right goes horribly wrong
One little fall means blood on the breeze
Little red house with a ghost to please.
Leave this WorldI will slit my wrists
to watch the blood fall to the floor
to end my life for good
and nobody cry a single tear
I will leave this world
pretend that I never existed
This life dont need me no more
I am better off gone from this world
I will slit my wrists
to ease the pain
I can't take the crying
I can't take this pain
There is no hope in this world
There is no reason to live
I will leave this world for good
Maybe someday I will be reborn
MirrorI look in the mirror,
and what do I see?
a disgusting reflection
staring back at me.
Perfection and beauty,
I'm simply not the person
whom I want to be.
Flawed and broken,
inside and out;
the truth is that I'm someone
the world can go on without.
No Longer a Little GirlDear imagination, can't you be the thing you were
Butterflies and daffodils and happiness so pure
Sunny skies and lullabies and dreams of what could be
Hidden worlds and wonderlands of things they couldn't see
Shining gowns and silver crowns for dancing with the prince
Twirling with excitement, though the others weren't convinced
Dear intimidation, did you find it to be true
All I ever needed was an overdose of you
Silly stares and laughter slowly flood a child's mind
Making me abandon every daydream I could find
Lost beneath the shadows of the sky so dark and dead
Far too weak to turn around, yet scared of things ahead
Dear destructive tendencies, I feel it's time to hear
You were all I had when nothing else seemed to be near
Everything so out of reach, too far for me to see
I decided I would choose the needle next to me
Slicing through my very skin to feel something once more
Weeping through the satisfaction I could not ignore
Dear imagination, can't you be the thing you were?
I saw you today
yes I did
you looked even more pathetic than what you used to
as you cling to your boyfriend
showing him off like he is some kind of trophy
you have nothing better to brag about
other than the ''hunk'' you call your ''love'' your ''baby'' or any kind of foolish name you come up with
or so you think ,but you hide the fact that he only wants to fuck you
and then move on to the next one
your just another piece of meat to him
do you know that?
no you wouldn't
you're too naïve and small minded to look through all the sweet words he rubs over your raging hormones
I saw you today
I know you saw me too
do you remember it ?
do you remember all the times you fucked with me
do you remember each single letter of all the names you called me
want me to spell it out for you?
B I T C H
I can go on ,but we shouldn't get nasty now
I saw you today
you were wearing that smile
the same smile you took from your closet of skeletons
you wear so many of them
I know they a
i wore you like a bruise.all i remember is
the ridges of my knuckles
sinking slowly into
the valley of your cheek
underneath a regurgitated
slice of the moon.
you were always
fiddling with my holster
but i finally bucked up the courage,
cocked my elbow,
and pulled the trigger.
the night devours bloodshed
by covering up its tracks—
dousing our conversation
with an asteroid's kerosene
and leaving my metacarpals stained
with the indigo hue
i wore you like a bruise,
but quite frankly,
i was hoping for a scar.
BlackI always wear the colour black
As it reflects my inner mood
Black is the absence of colour
Now I feel the absence of you
Black is my inert, withered heart
Immobilised since you’ve been gone
A vacuous hole of nothing
Lifeless, vapid and monochrome
Black is the frayed material
Of the grim reaper’s deathly cloak
So in the darkest evening sky
You would never see his approach
Black is the colour and the shade
Of the star speckled, moonlit sky
And the shadow which you once cast
In the early morning sunshine
Black is my weeping mascara
As down my face the tears will stream
From the little puddles of ink
My pupils nowhere to be seen
Black are those things I've gazed upon
With my sorrowful eyes shut tight
Even rainbows become polluted
Within the filth of my mind’s eye
Black is how I’m feeling today
But should I not be feeling blue
Like my blood before you cut it red
Like your blood before I cut you
Black is t
The BeginningHe told them, of course. He told those idiots everything, the whole damn story, including the blunder he'd made, and its consequences. Looking back on it later, he realized he had probably been in shock the whole time. It made sense, anyone would have been.
Soph was about twenty years old, and he'd been that way for a couple of years already, ever since the Hoarde had started attacking humanity from the past. Every day that passed, they ate at another day in the past. It sickened him. Those creatures had absolutely no regard for proper time and causality protocols.
It didn't seem to affect anyone else that way, though.
The Hoarde was the result of a human creation, of course, like everything bad in the world, though no one else knew about them. Then again, no one else had undiluted access to the power of creation. Even he didn't know much about the Hoarde, only that they appeared through some tear in The Fabric of The World and started killing people off. They appeared at some point in
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