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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.
The kissIt starts off slow, with a light brush of my face
Pulling me close in a warm embrace
Your hands on my waist as you pull me on top
Up on your lap is were I hop
I look deep into your shining eyes
As both your hands caress my thighs
I lean forward and you lean in
And this is were the kiss begins
Soft and gentle as you find your pace
My little heart starts to race
A fiery passion starts to grow
And there's no signs of this beginning to slow
Kissing harder now, discovering your lips
With your hands resting on my hips
Stopping only for the need of air
I run my fingers through your hair
No more scars that I have to bare
They fade away as if never there
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.
My WingsMoving on to better things, I'm so happy I found my wings
No need for tears, no sinking fears.
A burning passion comes in roaring fashion.
A smile I bear, free without a care.
No broken hearts, or scaring marks.
I'm moving on to better things, no more rocks upon my wings.
Teacher's pet peeve.You loathe me, you really do,
I know my presence just bothers you.
Those evil glares and little digs,
All those things to make you big.
You can poke and you can prod,
Then preach your words about your god.
You can act the little saint,
But that's something you just ain't.
You can pretend that I'm not there,
And then act like you treat us fair.
Questions of a wider scope,
Get a "no further questions" and a bible quote.
Crow like demeanour you wallow in pride,
No pity you offer, as you throw the carcass aside.
That burning hatred of me, you truly despise,
That roaring fire in your eyes.
Now tell me Miss, as it's clear to see,
Why do you really hate me?
Don't Fall In Love With A Writer Just because they will bruise your neck with pearls of metaphors; and splash palettes of colours onto your chest with reckless waves and boundless twilight. They will smear ink onto your lips as you kiss them because that is how they leave hickeys. They are wildest in their 2 a.m. diary, and liveliest in book racks of novels; they have butterflies in every heartbeat and they breathe living poems. They leave trails in libraries and coffee shops like Hansel leaves crumbs in forest and they have undying lovers because every love story is ever living in their abyssal oceans of analogies and similes. They know every cliché like the sunset knows the moon rise, and every wound in their heart like blood in their veins. They are terrifying because they weave you in splinters of fires rolling down their cheeks. They are weird because they don't smile much but sometimes you could catch their smiles in poems or tales. They are psychotic b
A Rapist Wears PinkA rapist can wear lipstick, make up, dresses or skirts,
Her nails can be painted brightly, her eyes can still harbor hurt.
A rapist can walk with heels, that click as she drags her feet,
A rapist can have a feminine voice, that comes pouring from her vile teeth.
A rapist can be a woman, that much should be clear,
Yet a few ignorant people, will choose not to adhere.
A rapist can pick her victim, as easily as the next,
She can claim she’s just lost or stranded, then force you into sex.
A rapist can cry wolf, as long as she cries feminist first,
A rapist can ruin your life style, make day to day living worse.
A rapist can put you in jail, with one tear of her eye.
A rapist will claim that you’ve hit her, that you wanted her to die.
A rapist is a liar, she hides behind her make up.
A rapist will be in your dreams, even when you wake up.
A rapist has the ability to avoid the clutches of the law,
A rapist can claim you’ve hit her, if you didn’t stand for her at
everything is temporaryi have never been one to yell, it hurts my throat, or maybe i just lack the passion to get that mad at something. you always did bring out things that i never knew were inside though. we had matching bloodshot eyes, and the same fuck the world attitude running through our veins as if the world owed us something. it didn't then. but it does now. my blood is thick and burning and i want to try and flood it into yours to get the colour back into your cheeks that i just watched drain. i kicked the wall, and opened the window and screamed at the sky-scrappers and i don't know how the world can just keep fucking turning without so much a skipped rotation or a fucking stutter.
you turned small, minor things into giant fucking events that made my chest even tighter. a tickle in my throat, a spreading wildfire on the nape of my neck, a distinct lack of words or feelings to anything more than a lingering heaviness. i lost count of how many times i contemplated stepping in front of that car, bus,
My alter-egosYou see, I have these beings in my head I call alter-egos. They're parts of me that appear whenever I need them. They represent me, they come from the deepest side of my soul. It might seem crazy, but that's the best way I can describe them. They're very different from my other OCs (Vince, Renka, Alice, ete); they're very special to me. Sorry, I'm not good at explaining things myself...
Keiko: can I? Can I explain it? Pleeeeaseee?
Okay, go ahead.
Keiko: okay, we are special beings that live inside Sandra's mind. We were formed of her subconscious, so that makes us different of her other OCs she created herself. We're here to protect her, to make her feel better when she has her episodes of depression. Recently, she decided to make us public because we told her it was a good idea.
Now we will show a list of all the alter-egos Sandra has:
-Abyss (Gloomy Apocalypse): Demon
-Angel (Pulsar Majoris): Male version of Sandra
-Astrid (Star Lollipop): Birdwing
-Dana (Harmonic Holic): Human with
Prayer For PeaceThis is not a pledge for peace, though I wish it was.
A pledge is adhered by everyone, those low and above.
I guess this is a prayer, something that I hold true,
A prayer for peace for everyone, for peace for me and you.
I’ve seen this world and its twisted ways,
I’ve seen more than 295 lives vanish in just days.
I’ve heard of the bombs flying across borders,
Making the lives of the innocent, quick and sorter.
I’ve seen the leaders of the world turn away,
Perhaps they’ll help out if they’re given better pay?
I’ve seen planes vanish, and fall from the sky,
I’ve seen their families mourn, their villages and cities cry.
I think to my self, is this the world God has made,
Is this the world we live in, if so, what have we paid?
We’ve ruined it with wars, hatred and destruction,
We’ve plagued it with chemicals, violence and combustion.
So I do not ask, nor pledge for what I want,
But I pray for peace, for a world that is so gaunt.
The gentleman with the paper napkin rose!Lonely and heart broken,
I was that night.
I walked out of my hotel room,
right into the bar and into it's magical atmosphere,
beautiful belly dancers,
I sat down and got me a drink,
wanting to drawn,
all of my feelings,
my love, my life.
wanting to be cold,
not wanting to feel anything,
betrayal is a painful
thing to remember!
So I wanted the ability to forget,
since forgiving was much too soon
for my broken heart.
So intense was this pain,
many years later
I still carry it's scars.
and without looking I was at the distance,
welcomed by someone's interest...
There he was looking at me,
and for the longest time
I could not look away, I got hypnotize
by his Indian eyes...
From a paper napkin he made me a flower,
I thought of this detail for hours.
He walked to me and reached for my hands,
placing the object of his creation between my fingers.
He must have made this flowers a thousand times,
because as he did,
he never stopped looking at my eye
fellow adventurers and others who want to donti know its been a long time sense she commited suicide but i just recently found out about Amanda Todd the poor girl she just couldnt handle it anymore i wanted to say that it gets better i should know and today im gonna tell you my story
it was an ordanary day in the dew household yes dew as in mountain dew anyway i was deppresed tho that wasnt unusual for me knowing my past it was diffrent this time it was like my deppression was worse then ever i went into my brothers old room to look at pictures because hes at collage so i was missing him then i noticed his clouset was open now ya see he had a real sword in that clouset and i saw it i thought to myself i-its to much i cant handle it anymore i picked the sword up and almost drew it getting ready to drive it right through my 9 year old chest but then i thought to myself why am i doing this all its gonna do is make my family missrable and i dont
TrustIt's almost impossible to make your mark on this world,
The true art in what I do is gone.
Once it was skill, and knowledge mixed with science that created the still image,
You had to know what an f-stop did, you had to know about depth of field.
Now everyone has a camera, everyone is a photographer,
What I pride myself on, is still striving to be better.
Trying to bring my own life's experiences to my images,
Finding the right people, people with soul, people with hurt inside them.
Encouraging those people to let down their walls,
To cry, to laugh, to be sexy, and sultry, and scary and mean and passionate for my lens.
To reveal themselves, sometimes for the first time ever, sometimes for the last time ever,
Some reveal their hearts, some reveal their bodies, all reveal something.
Because if you think I'll just have you just standing there, you are wrong,
You will be encouraged to let go.
Know that I know my art, the technical side, the science behind a great shot,
Trust that for a fle
I live to dream, I live to love.I live to dream, I live to love,
I live to do all of the above.
Your smile like honey, it fills my heart with joy,
Your beautiful tone as you speak, I don't interrupt, not a peep.
I bite my lips and try and hide but oh how you make me feel inside, there are just there are just no words that can describe.
I live to dream, I live to love and hope,
maybe we could elope?
I joke because you'll probably never know how I really feel,
and I know it take time for wounds to heal.
But let me be a cure.
I live to dream, I live to love.
Maybe some day it will be enough.
The Coffee GodThe Coffee God behind the counter shuffles foot to foot, a dance of steam and espresso. Black painted fingernails, inch gauged ears and a gray striped sweatshirt, hood crooked on his back. There's a cigarette tucked behind one ear; it bobs and twitches with each step.
“Non-fat caramel latte,” he calls, just as he always does, part of a spell, part of a mantra, toneless (just a tuck at the end). I reach. He looks up.
The espresso maker hisses.
There's something like a grin, something like a spark, something like a shared secret linked eye to eye. When he passes over the drink (rough cardboard sleeve hot to the touch), he lingers. Our fingers brush, a shiver, a jolt, a ten-watt shock.
The Coffee God tilts his chin, shouts, “Hey, mind if I take my break now?”
and ducks around the counter without waiting for a reply.
He slips his cigarette between his lips without taking his eyes from mine. I follow him out the door.
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