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.
SuicideWhen I woke up,
I expected you to be alive.
I expected the end of your letter
To say something like,
"I'm right behind you,
But that never happened.
When I woke up,
You were still dead.
You aren't dead to me.
You should be alive,
You should be here with me!
Where are you?
Why did you leave?
You didn't have to go!
I would've cared for you!
I would've rescued you!
There are still people who love you!
You didn't have to kill yourself!
You didn't have to die.
I can't believe you're dead.
I can't believe you're dead.
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
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
I'm OkayI'm getting pretty good at sewing,
I tell you, and you comment on the
messy stitching, here and there, but
I didn't ask, you know, I didn't ask -
I stitch up my wounds again
that you've opened in messy loops
of beige and crimson and dirt brown
and violet and black blue to match
what you've left on my skin
When you leave the room,
I let out a sigh of stale air kept
in my bruised lungs for too long
and that's when I realize
that I've been holding my breath
the entire time
"Why are you crying?"
I'm pretty good at lying, see,
the words piece together like
scrabble letters, like a little game
that you can only lose
Staring at a blank paper
Is an artist's worst nightmare.
The artist is the shaper,
Their thoughts somewhere up in the air.
They are searching for inspiration,
Sometimes they are even searching the skies.
It takes a lot of concentration,
But you can always see the passion burning in their eyes.
Being an artist does not always mean you're creative.
It just means that you want to create something,
And never want to give up.
EyesThey told me not to look,
But I always do.
I can't help it you know?
Their eyes are so beautiful...
Each one shines with a colour from the rainbow.
Some are green, some are blue.
You might even find a set of gold amongst the lot.
Some of them shine like pearls,
Others twinkle like stars in the sky.
Each one holds a fragile soul,
Each one has its own sense of depth.
And so, I always end up looking into their eyes...
Right before I blink mine and I firmly squeeze the trigger...
How to Court a FeministIf you hold the door open for me,
I hope it's because it's a decent thing to do
And nothing to do with my gender.
If you buy me a drink,
Expect me to do the same for you.
I'll cook for you
(If you don't mind burnt food)
And I'll clean for you
(If you'll return the favour).
Not because I'm a woman,
But because it's a nice thing to do.
If you're nice to me,
It's not a ticket for sex.
If I'm nice to you,
Sex doesn't always come next.
If we go for a meal,
I want to split the bill.
I don't expect you
To sing to me,
Whilst climbing through my window sill.
I don't care if you've had sex or not,
As long as it's the same for me.
I don't want diamond rings,
Don't get down on one knee
I don't owe you anything
And you owe me nothing.
My gender is not entitlement,
And neither is yours.
If I'm drunk, I can't consent,
And I'll love you more for not doing it.
If you hit me, I'll leave you,
And if I hit you, it's just as wrong.
If I cry in front of you,
I don't expect you to fix everything.
If you cry
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”
Random Homestuck Troll Character Facts(1)Aradia Megido once finished "The song that never ends".
(2)Tavros Nitram can set ants on fire with a magnifying glass. At night.
(3)Time waits for no man, unless that man is Sollux Captor.
(4)Godzilla is a Japanese rendition of Karkat Vantas's first visit to Tokyo.
(5)Nepeta Leijon does not hunt because the word hunting implies the possibility of failure. Nepeta Leijon goes killing.
(6)Kanaya Maryam does not need to "style" her hair. It lays perfectly in place out of sheer terror.
(7)Terezi Pyrope can taste lies.
(8)Behind every successful man, there is a woman. Behind every dead man, there is Vriska Serket.
(9)TNT was originally made by Equius Zahhak to help indigestion.
(10)"Let the bodies hit the floor" was originally written to be Gamzee Makara's theme song.
(11)When you say "no one is perfect", Eridan Ampora takes this as a personal insult.
(12)Contrary to popular belief, the Titanic didn't hit an iceberg. The ship was off course and accidentally ran into Feferi Peixes while sh