A letter to my future selfDear me,
Hello my dear I hope you’re well, but I suppose that’s for time to tell.
I hope you’ve aged with a beautiful grace, with no wrinkles on your face.
I hope your smiling as you read this, I hope you’ve took your time and succeeded.
Are you still writing? In your therapeutic way? For I know it keeps your demons at bay.
How’s your family, I hope it’s grew, changed a lot from just being you?
I know you’ll be more confident than you what you where before, I hope those common things don’t seem such a chore.
How’s the view from your window, I bet it’s of the sea. Or somewhere very beautiful where I know you’ll feel so free.
I know things are better than they ever were before, I know you’ll be strong through all the things that make you sore.
I bet you seen all the sights and more than you ever dreamed, I know things will be so beautiful than they ever seemed.
I suppose you’re busy, with you’re happy lif
My dear friendMy dear friend, I know it's been so long.
Please forgive me, I was wrong.
But I want you back, can we start again?
When we're together I forget the pain.
I'll let you lead and then I'll follow,
I need you back, I feel so hollow.
I miss the memories we used to create,
Our relationship was truly fate.
I hope my dear that you feel the same,
Will you be the spark to my flame?
I'm sorry that I went away,
I miss you more, day by day.
But as I write it's clear to see,
My dear friend poetry you've came back to me!
One of those nightsIt's one of those nights were my eyes won't close,
were tears keep dripping down my nose.
It's one of those nights were everything's wrong but I can't explain why,
When the light burns out all I'm left to do is cry.
It's one of those nights were I panic at the slightest sound,
Were under the air I feel like I'm drowned.
It's one of those nights were I can't seem to breathe,
Were I choke and I heave, I just want to leave.
It's one of those nights were I can't stop thinking,
I'm slowly falling, I'm drowning, I'm sinking.
It's one of those nights were there are no lights in the sky,
Were I feel grounded when I just want to fly.
It's one of those nights were everything comes back,
All the dark thoughts that shroud your mind in black.
It's one of those nights were I'm too scared to dream,
For once it's ends, I'll wake up, and scream.
The fame gameShy and quiet, is what you are,
Yet is see you dreaming to be a star.
Basking under that radiant spotlight,
Smiling as your lips gently dust the mic.
I see you glow as your passion flares,
You melt all fears, you have no cares.
But tell me now as your growing strong,
Never missing a note in each and every song.
Was it really necessary to change your name,
Will it really gain you fame?
They told you that your own wasn't cool or acquit
But your stage name doesn't really seem to fit.
The wig and make up are a good gimmick
But for you I don't really think your with it
I'll admit I'm happy for you,
But as far as personalities go I think you have two.
The fame monster seems to be growing inside
You can run but you can't hide.
And the fact that your acting like you're hot shit
You're getting there, but you're not quite it.
Watch this space.
To late I've seen enough.
Can't be savedBound by pain, torn inside
Worrying feelings are coming alive.
A storm is forming inside my heart
I can't breathe, I'm falling apart.
"Come help me" I scream as I fall from the sky
You reach out to catch me, then wave goodbye.
I can hear your laughter ringing in my ears
I can hear the demons whispering my fears.
I try to call out, in a desperate plea
But I know you can't save me.
I want to go back, to change it all
It's all to late I've started to fall.
I never even said farewell,
As I fall to the gates of hell.
I cursed myself, for that is true
There's so much more I wish you knew.
The song of the Magpie One for sorrow, two for joy.
What once was joyful, is now just sorrow.
The bitter taste of today, is stale for tomorrow.
A heavy drowse of a now distant past,
Faded memories, of passings so fast.
Three for a girl, four for a boy.
There once was a girl who fell in love,
Who had a heart as pure as a soaring dove.
She met a boy with a heart of gold,
Hard, metallic and awfully cold.
Five for silver, six for gold.
She was promised silver, diamonds and stones,
Yet all she received was brass, ash and bones.
She found the gold, in the best of others.
Giving love and strength to her sisters and brothers.
Seven for a secret never to be told.
Lies were formed and secrets kept
Serpents whispered while she slept.
She let nothing bother her, had struggles a few.
Though legend says for joy, you must see two.
I began to writeI began to write a verse filled with spite, filled with anger and utter betrayal.
I began to write how I was truly hurt and all the wrongs that had been done to me.
I began to write to protest on everything you had done, to shame you, to blame you.
But as I began to write I seen that nothing worked, that I had filled the page with a vile and hateful verse.
I had seen that what I had began to write was the beginning of a fight, a beginning of a war that would only hurt both sides.
So instead if fighting fire with fire, I extinguished the flame, and made a white flag for my soul.
I took a step back from my fiery attack.
And I began to write this.
Take a walk with me.To the end we shall go, were ever it may be,
Take me down the path less travelled, walk me through the sea.
The broken glass of crackled hearts, were bare feet may tread,
Along side the river of the dammed, the water coloured red.
Hollow bones and bullet holes litter the sandy plain,
Dried blood is the mark that only death may reign.
Yet here we stand in fire and smoke,
Drowning in it's gentle choke.
and off I'll sail.
To a valley of eternal bliss.
Perfect ImperfectionsThis world is a NIGHTMARE
To search for perfection
in an imperfect world is
nothing but mere MADNESS
in the eternity, where
No one fights against time
Who wants a life...
without any madness in it?
At least the world is...
keep fighting for perfection
Because in the end it'll worth something
you have never imagined before
Good girl gone RogueGood girl
Gotta be the good girl I was raised to be. I could laugh in their face, how stupid they sound. I guess that's what a heartbreak can do. Over and over again, by the same guy none the less.
But don't let my smile fool you. I know how to protect myself. After something as stupid as that. I know how to protect my already torn up heart.
As long as I'm cold and sarcastic, that'll protect me.
Don't let them see your emotions. The second you do, you'll regret it. They'll tear you piece by piece until you're nothing but an empty husk of what you had been.
And then the tears gush out
How can something that happened over a year ago, still burn into my mind?
Give them the devious shark like smirk
Squint your eyes into a glare
My heart breaks and still tears at the edges of oblivion. No matter how long ago it was, it still hurts. But I'm no longer that good girl I'd once been long, long ago. I'm colder now. I'm more sarcastic, and I try
Memories written in the SandIt hurts to remember sometimes. The good times you want to cherish but then coming back to reality it hurts, lemon juice to a wound you thought was healed but burns like it was fresh.
My mind is muddled. I slip and remember small events and smile happily knowing it had happened, but then the second I remember the reality I live in I break into tears. I want to remember him, the guy that I thought was close to being mine but was taken from me. We'd promised to still be friends but now we barely talk to one another. I don't out of fear of annoying him. It hurts, I want to cry. Before him I didn't know what it felt like to really like someone and to be liked back.
The smallest thoughts drag me into a memory, either one that makes me blush or one that makes me laugh or smile. I met up with him once before, a little after I told him I had feelings for him and he had given me his jacket while we stood outside in the cool night. Now every picture I see of a guy giving a girl his jacket
A Discourse on DiscordSome of you ponies may be wondering why Discord, a spirit of disagreement and disharmony, has been given a second chance. Why would Princess Celestia see Discord as being used for good, worthy of being reformed? What purpose does disagreement and disharmony serve? I mean should there not be peace? Should there not be harmony? What most ponies fail to realize is that not all peace is good. There is peace with being content and peace in being complacent. Peace that is found in being complacent is not a good thing. It is not being content but just accepting things are because they have always been that way. What if something has always been a way but it was not good? Should we be complacent with something that is not good? I would think that my little ponies would say no to something like that. It is through chaos that shows us what is true and what it not.
How do you think new discoveries are made? It is either
Broken ToothShe was restless. Feeling the urge to move, to do something, anything, other than sit and read, and wonder. But where would she wander too? The campus was cold, icy and made as a wind tunnel for gales that blew through the town. It was also far too full of inclines and elevation changes that made walking your heart out exhausting and more irritating than anything. She recalled the school she’d once attended. Clad in a black blouse, a scowl, jeans and boots that would stomp threw someone’s face, she’d roam the hallways. Finding herself in dead ends would only serve to turn her around and retrace her steps. Round the school, cross hallways and areas, foyers and doors. But that was then. In another city, at another time.
Now she sought to desperately outdo the irritation that came with the restlessness. Sought to find a way away from the buzzing in her mind, the itch on the pads of her feet, the same itch that could be associated with wander lust. The rational part
Smile At The BirdieYour face.
I felt sad even looking at you. I
felt terrible. But, not even a
snippet of how bad you were
What has she done to you? What
have they done to you? You have
lost friends to a hopeless love.
You have lost lovers to a
I do not know you that well,
neither do I know all of them.
But I do know, you are a friend,
you will be a good one.
And I do not like seeing my
friends the way you look right
now. Sad, fed up, hopeless.
I cannot make all the bad stuff
disappear. I cannot give you
luck. But I will try and give you a
In the hope you might return one
Let me fill it up with a smile.
A PriceI had thought him a boy worth trusting. It was a one sided crush, with him affectionately calling me his friend. I would smile, nod, and say how great a friend he was back. And so, I grew to become sated with this way of things, holding a hope that if I was there enough for him, it could evolve into something.
But then she came. She had always been there, destroying one love to a game, another to a friend, and now she had at last come for the prize. The one I had spent protecting with my emotions the entire time.
I could be sick at what I had to do for him. He wanted more than her love, and heart, and would use me as a friend to help him. And so I did. I did it with a twisted heart, seeing that he would never know my way of feelings, and that even if he did it wouldn’t mean much, considering my subdued nature towards these matters. He wanted her, and he deserved what he wanted. And I would do anything to keep him happy.
It comes at the price of my jo
100 Writing Prompts Challenge- BreadGregory Marion well and truly hated the Christmas season. Not because he was a Grinch, or some greedy Scrooge who could not be bothered to part with a few coins and a smile to help his fellow man. Nor was it because of the fact that his Jewish faith and Chanukah celebrations got absorbed in the over-commercialized glow of the American Christian Christmas. Nor was it the cold and snow- and the multitude of playful, prankster children often brought about because of said snow and no school- that made him loathe it.
No, the reason he hated the Christmas season was the absolute hypocrisy it brought out in all his fellow men. The sudden influx of 'peace on earth, good will to all men' messages now assaulting the populace awakened otherwise impotent and barely-existent reflexes of guilt in their hearts. Many seemed to realize only during the Christmas season just how fortunate they were, and took only this time of year to suddenly become altruistic. Ironically, at the same time as the
Walking With These Wishes“How are you?”
It was you who asked me that
question, weeks ago. Back when
you still cared to ask me.
No, I am not saying you are
heartless. You might still care,
you just do not ask anymore.
If you were heartless, I would
not be so hurt. I would realise
there was something wrong with
you, not me. If you were
heartless. No, if we were
heartless, I could let you go.
But now, I just cannot stop
staring at you. Just knowing
where you are is not enough.
My eyes keep wandering back to
My mind is strolling around for
ways to connect with yours.
My heart is jogging to a
desperate beat, a hopeless wish
to beat with yours.
But when your cold eyes meet
my wandering glance, my heart
stops jogging. It stops beating.
Then, it runs. It is running,
sprinting to a beat so fast, so
harsh, so painful that I have to
Because I know that no matter
how hard I try, I will never catch
up to you. I will never run on the
same beat or stroll down the
same path. We are just too