I cant compete with a memory.
I cant erase the pain.
I cant stop the hurt that flows through your veins.
I gave you all I could, I tried to make you smile.
Your laugh, so infectious, made it worth my while.
Now as I lay here, sore and depressed.
I wonder if to you, I was like all the rest.
Those girls you talk about, that don't deserve a whisper.
It was only for a few hours you lay in my arms, but is was all so crystal clear.
I am nothing but an object, but I need you here.
She was your dream, your idol, your hope.
I cannot comprehend the depth of your loss, I cannot cope.
The standards I outlined for my life, wither when confronted with
The damp earth presses around the little worm, tinged with decay and lichen. Hard granules of broken stone and mortar have crumbled into the dark soil, perforating the necropolis. Unbeknown to the frozen world above, this succulent gloom hides its secrets.
Striving for the delicacy between the wooden sections, the little worm pushes against the rotting oak. The heat of exertion pulses through its sinuous body, it must win.
Finally the barriers of God let go of their tenacious hold, just for this one little worm.
One bite. Savory, the dry meat sends a cascade of flavour.
“You’re so fat, 180 pounds?! Makeup cakes the teen, as wh
Nothing does you justice.
No poem I could ever dream up will ever capture the facets of your strong personality.
I could watch you for a hundred years, and never understand you.
I normally shy away from such cliché poetry, leaving the pure fluffy subjects alone.
I prefer the dark and mysterious poems that leave the mind shocked. The poem that tells all, yet revels nothing.
"To me it all boils down to the revenge factor"
But being human, just a little bit, I have a heart.
It's slightly rotten, and covered in black silken strands, but it's there, beating.
When you smile it doesn't just make my body sing, it lights up the room aroun
It's a feeling of self-loathing and hopelessness all rolled into one.
It is not just a constant leech that is impossible to burn, but a reminder of how far we have sunk.
It is a low self-esteem, it is pure failure.
That is Fat.
However much we stare in the mirror, our worst side always makes an appearance.
It's the bloated gelatinous white thing, that hangs over the belt buckle, grinning.
With every meal, snack and treat the thing learns.
Learns more words to hurt you with, ugly, huge, proof of defeat.
That is Fatter.
But sometime, in between tears and silent screams, we begin to love it.
It's a comfort, to hide behind the mass.
Yo
I have had my heart broken too many times by life, to trust in wishes and dreams.
And yet, when I see you smile I forget how much it hurts to be alive.
Why should a candle on a birthday cake, make you love me?
Reality is a tough pill to swallow, but it never wears off.
I can convince myself time is a better bet, as it still hasn't stopped.
But somehow, praying on 11:11 seems childish at best.
That's me, eternally hopeful, constantly disappointed.
I go to talk to you with the promise to hold my tongue, it never works.
I want to scream out that I am so sorry, so stupid, and so in love.
Your brown eyes just see through most superficial
The Children of Change. by LostInChoas, literature
Literature
The Children of Change.
A wild dream, of lights melting over intoxicated bodies.
Its the smell of pine and sweat, mixed up, jumbled in our nostrils.
Sort of a promise to the golden future that no matter how old and withered we get,our spunk will not fade.
Me is a dreamer, who longs for immortality and senseless moments of party spirit.
Rotation after rotation, small wonder we evolve so fast.Catching up with ourselves, in hopes we can break the cycle.
Myself is cold and calculating,but stuck in an endless place of loss and gain.
Us poor beings, we cant just let our desires run rampant.Its too much of a risk, to harsh a change.So for now sweet one, I shall close
Pressed for time, she hurries on her day. The light scent of panic perfumes the air around her shining halo, tick, tick, tock.
Pressed are his clothes, folded methodically. Every line, seam perfectly in order the dreary blacks and whites.
Pressed is the unwilling child. Up against the cement wall, money or dignity only one will escape unscathed.
Pressed is the gun against the roof of his mouth,he is gagging on the cold metal.
Bang.
Hurried is the crowd, as they line up for the coca brew, each pretending to be content. Shuffle, push, shove.
Hurried is the boy, as he puts away the satins and glitter. Never too many locks, to hi
I cant compete with a memory.
I cant erase the pain.
I cant stop the hurt that flows through your veins.
I gave you all I could, I tried to make you smile.
Your laugh, so infectious, made it worth my while.
Now as I lay here, sore and depressed.
I wonder if to you, I was like all the rest.
Those girls you talk about, that don't deserve a whisper.
It was only for a few hours you lay in my arms, but is was all so crystal clear.
I am nothing but an object, but I need you here.
She was your dream, your idol, your hope.
I cannot comprehend the depth of your loss, I cannot cope.
The standards I outlined for my life, wither when confronted with
The damp earth presses around the little worm, tinged with decay and lichen. Hard granules of broken stone and mortar have crumbled into the dark soil, perforating the necropolis. Unbeknown to the frozen world above, this succulent gloom hides its secrets.
Striving for the delicacy between the wooden sections, the little worm pushes against the rotting oak. The heat of exertion pulses through its sinuous body, it must win.
Finally the barriers of God let go of their tenacious hold, just for this one little worm.
One bite. Savory, the dry meat sends a cascade of flavour.
“You’re so fat, 180 pounds?! Makeup cakes the teen, as wh
Nothing does you justice.
No poem I could ever dream up will ever capture the facets of your strong personality.
I could watch you for a hundred years, and never understand you.
I normally shy away from such cliché poetry, leaving the pure fluffy subjects alone.
I prefer the dark and mysterious poems that leave the mind shocked. The poem that tells all, yet revels nothing.
"To me it all boils down to the revenge factor"
But being human, just a little bit, I have a heart.
It's slightly rotten, and covered in black silken strands, but it's there, beating.
When you smile it doesn't just make my body sing, it lights up the room aroun
It's a feeling of self-loathing and hopelessness all rolled into one.
It is not just a constant leech that is impossible to burn, but a reminder of how far we have sunk.
It is a low self-esteem, it is pure failure.
That is Fat.
However much we stare in the mirror, our worst side always makes an appearance.
It's the bloated gelatinous white thing, that hangs over the belt buckle, grinning.
With every meal, snack and treat the thing learns.
Learns more words to hurt you with, ugly, huge, proof of defeat.
That is Fatter.
But sometime, in between tears and silent screams, we begin to love it.
It's a comfort, to hide behind the mass.
Yo
I have had my heart broken too many times by life, to trust in wishes and dreams.
And yet, when I see you smile I forget how much it hurts to be alive.
Why should a candle on a birthday cake, make you love me?
Reality is a tough pill to swallow, but it never wears off.
I can convince myself time is a better bet, as it still hasn't stopped.
But somehow, praying on 11:11 seems childish at best.
That's me, eternally hopeful, constantly disappointed.
I go to talk to you with the promise to hold my tongue, it never works.
I want to scream out that I am so sorry, so stupid, and so in love.
Your brown eyes just see through most superficial
The Children of Change. by LostInChoas, literature
Literature
The Children of Change.
A wild dream, of lights melting over intoxicated bodies.
Its the smell of pine and sweat, mixed up, jumbled in our nostrils.
Sort of a promise to the golden future that no matter how old and withered we get,our spunk will not fade.
Me is a dreamer, who longs for immortality and senseless moments of party spirit.
Rotation after rotation, small wonder we evolve so fast.Catching up with ourselves, in hopes we can break the cycle.
Myself is cold and calculating,but stuck in an endless place of loss and gain.
Us poor beings, we cant just let our desires run rampant.Its too much of a risk, to harsh a change.So for now sweet one, I shall close
Pressed for time, she hurries on her day. The light scent of panic perfumes the air around her shining halo, tick, tick, tock.
Pressed are his clothes, folded methodically. Every line, seam perfectly in order the dreary blacks and whites.
Pressed is the unwilling child. Up against the cement wall, money or dignity only one will escape unscathed.
Pressed is the gun against the roof of his mouth,he is gagging on the cold metal.
Bang.
Hurried is the crowd, as they line up for the coca brew, each pretending to be content. Shuffle, push, shove.
Hurried is the boy, as he puts away the satins and glitter. Never too many locks, to hi
My Heart Is Screaming by EmoLovesShawn, literature
Literature
My Heart Is Screaming
You like me, but not enough to date me; only enough to do things when we are alone. How is that fair to someone like me who loves you so unconditionally? I just can't help myself. You draw me in with every adorable little smirk that slides across your face. My heart melts every time I hear your contagious laughter echo across the room. Just hearing your voice instantly makes me feel like I can fly.
But the power in your words can crush me just as easily as the can lift me up. That's only one of the many things you don't realize. You don't bother with sugarcoating things. You'd rather sprinkle them in acid and watch as your words bu
god what could beocme of a life this,
Theres days where I
start
to hate your name.
It isnt right,
me sat
all night hearing
the things you said to me knowing you whisper,
them to her.
And watching the sun rise is tainted with memories of you
Cause I'm the only one you watch them with.
How can you kiss me,
so casually?
I can join in with your game,
pretending that its okay I feel the same
but my feelings run deeper,
without the closure
of a friend
to kiss one last time
and to say
its over to.
They walk past her everyday,
Few bother to look her way,
She sits alone in a quiet place,
Her bangs always hiding her face,
Constantly drawing with her pen,
Artistics flourishes that never end,
But what nobody has ever seen,
Are the words written under the cover,
"Notice Me."
Everybody knows his name,
Everyone pretends it's all just a game.
He's the kid who always wins a fight,
Eyes that brood with a freakish light,
And a body covered over with tattoos,
All to carefully hide the words on his heart,
"Notice Me."
She's the girl in the crowd,
Spiky hair and metal bracelets,
Thrashing around to the music she hears,
Telling the
This is my curse,
This is my burden that I bear;
Every day.
I dont know what will happen
If I ever told you this secret,
That is locked up and buried deep,
Deep, deep down inside my heart.
I wish I could tell you my secret,
But you can never know
How it burns my eyes like acid
To see you with those other girls,
How my foolish heart shatters as I long to be them,
And how the darkness passes over my soul,
As my jealous heart longs to hear them
Scream for death.
And how, when that moment passes,
I force myself to drink up my guilt,
The golden cup of poison forced down my throat,
You do not know how every night my heart,
I know that I will probably get hurt,
And I understand the friends that tell me that this is a mistake,
But I don't care.
Not because I want to prove something to anyone,
Not to act like I've moved on from a past love,
I only don't care because I'm happy,
And I'm allowed to love who I want.
It is my life,
My pain,
It will be my heartbreak,
And I love how you make me feel,
So nothing is going to stop me.
So tonight I went and invited a large group of friends, trying to mold us together in an attempt to see you.
It didnt work.
I was told you chose me, over three others, beautiful others.
But it was lies.
I knew she was your type from the moment she was with you, she fit in ways I never could.
I cant hold onto something that was never there, so I will let you go tommorrow, but if only for tonight...this twisted wonderful night, let me love you.
let me dream, hope, learn without the pain of reality crushing every moment of closed eyed bliss.
Everyone but me knew it, I guess I was the oblivious one...Ironic.
My whole life is one ironic
I inheritied many things, hate, distain, disgust.
I lost many things, hope, love, fear
I learned a lot of stuff, mortality, giving
My eyes changed from blue to green.
First time I've ever made one of these.
I guess this year was a lot of firsts for me.
First year at a new public school.
First time with a guy.
First group of friends I can really be a retard with.
I miss my youth, I really do.
Its a pity YOLO has gone so mainstream (I think its cuz the stupid understand it so easily ;)
because knowing I can never repeat my past makes it just that little bit more tragic.
Even the happy memories, are drentched in sadness.........................
Anyway, heres my list:
Figure out what I want to do with my life.
Do it.
Show more respect to everyone.
No matter how much they piss me off.
Make an effo