Sometimes I sit and cry, wondering if I made the right decision. But I try and live with no regrets, I make all choices with precision.
Beautiful Mess.Beautiful Mess.
So you know that girl who’s always at lunch by herself, always at home by herself, a complete loner? Yes, well you've just met me. Quiet, shy, completely ignorant of every form of human being, my name is Violet.
I’m a freshman at Groverdale High this year, and well, let’s just say that school is not my cup of tea. Knowing that I have to go right back to that hell hole every Monday through Friday doesn't give me a lot off motivation. It’s only been a week since the school year began, and I literally feel like I’m dying. I don’t mind being a loner, I mean, I’ve always been one, but the continuous glaring at me is aggravating. At my old school I passed through the halls like a ghost, I was invisible, and I liked it that way. I’m certain that only two people, aside from some of the teachers, in that entire school new my name. I was fine there, but here, here it’s a different story.
According to my observations, the only
A Better Day.Hush hush, don't cry, rid of those teardrops in your eye. I hate to see you feel this way, but realize all this pain won't stay. Forget me, forget the past, don't let your memories last. I'm really not worth the pain or sorrow. A brighter day will come tomorrow.
Broken.He's broken and bruised, unsure of which path to choose. They've loved for a while, but lately, he can't seem to make her smile. He tries his hardest, he tries his best.. it's starting to seem like an impossible test. There's two different choices, only one you can choose. Choose the one that makes you happy, after all, there's only one way you can lose.
For You.I'd cry for you, I'd die for you, I'd run a thousand miles for you.
Through all my pain and sorrow too, I'd still manage a smile for you.
Poem.I know what I'm doing is rude and wrong,
but Honey, let's face it, I can't stay strong.
I'm broken and bruised every single day,
I thought that it might, but it doesn't help to pray.
You reassure me you're not leaving, you'll always stay true,
I hope you keep your promises because I love you.
Some people think things just go to my head,
but i'm not kidding, if you leave me, I'd rather be dead.
The Flesheaters"Oh my gosh, could you be quiet for once?! I'm starting to fail this class, and you know why because you won't stop talking! I can't hear anything the teacher's saying!" "Jeez Izzy, don't freak out dude. I'll stop talkin' okay, if you think that will boost your grade up " Matt laughed sarcastically.
"Man, if we weren't in school right now..." Izzy muttered under his breath.
"What would you do to me? Beat me up? Tell on me?" Matt asked curiously.
"Well, you'd find out then, wouldn't you?" Izzy said.
"Wow man, you're so scary! I think I'm gonna go home and cry to my mommy!" Matt laughed.
"You just watch your back man, karma is gonna come back and get you for all the things you say to people." warned Izzy.
"Eh... I don't believe in karma, I choose my own future." Matt laughed.
"Okay bud, you just keep on thinkin' that in that smart little brain of yours." Izzy smirked.
"Hey man! I do have a smart brain! So don't try and be cool by rippin' on me like that!" Matt yelled.
Odds and EndsA cup is just a cup
until it's the last cup that she touched,
and a car
is just a way from a to b
until it's the way that she arrived
A picture in a frame
is lovely to see, even if only ever viewed
in the background, passively,
but when the image
locks in place
the last smile on her face
then your grief turns to regret
for the memory
trapped beneath the glass.
An old pair of slippers,
tucked neatly beside the door,
every time you cross the threshold,
until the day
when you have to toss those old things away
and they are as heavy as anchors
and more treasured
A scent that fills your head,
the comfort of a familiar figure and
a warm embrace,
but when you can no longer detect it's fragrance,
it becomes a mystery
impossible to solve,
a memory lost to time
like the ghost of a kiss
lost somewhere among the rest.
A name is just a name
until it's torn from the tongue and carved
into the stone,
and a dream
is a just a thing between the nigh
a kiss requires
is two pairs
and a willingness
for the dream
of a raft
you might find nestled
between the hundredth
pair you try;
even more broken
in the pursuit
of a love that
firebirdAutumn has gone up in flames,
winter brings ashen remains
Fragile bird skeletons with
white blazing feathers they
break easily in this
brittle-bone weather I'm
inhaling cold ashes that
rattle my lungs//my ribs//my heart
and this phoenix is falling
a p a r t
but sometimes that's necessary.
vasha ptichkai want you to read me stories,
the very same ones
as i wrap you into,
catch you in their bindings
and smell you,
clean and summer,
inside the pages.
standing in your shower,
i wear the bodywash
that is a signature of yours,
foreign on my skin.
sometimes you are there with me,
and we are children again
as we splash water
on one another's naked bodies.
i am turning you into
a bigger reader,
a braver hero,
a stronger soul;
you tell me that
you put your phone down
and buckle your seatbelt
when you get behind the wheel
because you imagine my face
if you told me you didn't.
i want to be something new for you.
a better lover,
a happier smile,
the warmest arms you could ever need.
i never want to waver
even as tides crash my knees,
and i want you to always hear it,
close to your ear or across the state,
when i tell you
you mean the world to me.
too (iso)late(d)touch-starved waistlines
recollect memories in old text messages
and incomplete composition notebooks
they argue with themselves
about self-preservation in a predatory
wilderness: the privacy of homes
and thick bedroom walls
with birds calling them from hiding spots
amongst the fear and hope
unfounded and unfound
& steady hands let go of their centers
to grip reluctance in pens
recording the songs of bluebirds
outside, outside, outside
as growth sets in with resignation smiles
on certain occassions fallacies exist for a reason[innocent is a synonym for boring
innocence is a symptom of ennui]
i'm not in the not in the not in the
to be the knot in the noose: loose
unhinged. disjointed. you know:
you know the drill & you know
the drill in my head is always
impaling my skull & you know
there is no difference between
this psychosis & you. no. i am
at best your greatest parachute
(if you fall into the abyss of my
mind, you shall float, as gently
as a feather in the wind) i am a
zephyr at worst: a tornado sans
entropy. i am the #1 cause of a
broken heart & most dangerous
catalyst since 1991. more fuel?
fuel, for what? fuel
for an aching heart
(ima hack ima hack
ima hack my wrists
which is what hacks
do) all of them do it
(i am a hack, hack, a hack
hacking up my irony lungs)
blacking up my exxon & i
mean blacking out my eye
really mean i don't mean a
thing i say & i say nothing,
nothing but when, but i'm
not in the not in the mood
innocent is a synonym for
Nude Pictures of French GirlsWhispers lingered, premature like an Indian summer;
heavy on the leaves and heavier on the lungs.
Until even the wall flowers began to wither and die.
The wind brought with it dust and unkempt secrets.
Reversed burials where words tasted endlessly like bones.
We stared down at ourselves, drowning in rivers of drought.
And as our tongues carried us to the headwaters of this
mechanized plague, we at last saw the architect of betrayal;
A mirror, higher than the mountains, with two unhappy statues
standing far behind it.
2P Romano Hetaloid x Reader (Part 2)“talking”, ‘thinking’
Despite you pleads Flavio kept undressing you, leaving you only in your (color) frilly undergarments. “Frills definitely suit you my bella ragazza but I wouldn’t mind taking those off for you too~” “NO!” You quickly avoided his hands as he was reaching for the clip of you bra, and since beggar can’t be choosers you picked up the first piece of clothing you got your hands on. “Aaww~ Alright mio amore you can still wear it but only if you put on that dress you got” “Fine, I’ll be back” You went into your room and locked the door to change only to realize what dress you have picked out. It was a short (color) maid dress that you bought yesterday just thinking you could wear it for fun while cleaning the house.
‘Dear God why!? …Maybe I can escape through my window and-’ “(f/n)~! You done? Don’t make me go in there~” “Fuck my life”