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ScarsThe blood doesn't pour out anymore,
But the scares still show,
Will these wounds heal or be forever sore,
The memories shine a bright glow.
The pain still remains,
The tears still fall,
Rivers of the blood still stains,
My wall remains tall.
A razor blade craved into my wrist,
Every cut shows pain,
Every scar has a story with a twist,
To many problems to explain.
There is no where to hide,
No reason to even try,
Inside I have already died,
As I disappear, I break down and cry.
Who Would KnowA single teardrop streams down her pale face,
A final goodbye letter wrapped in lace.
She fakes her final smile,
Who would know that this was the last,
Glares and laughter fill the hallway,
Who would know the truth of her past.
Her hidden legs covered in scars,
Who would know the lies she was in
her pain and hurt kept behind bars.
Who would guess the torture she'd seen.
A broken home filled with drama and tears,
Her last pieces of hope eaten by fears.
So is this the end?
Or is this only the start?
Is there anyone to heal her breaking heart?
Waiting for the sun to light up her days,
Warm her weak body with it's glistening rays.
Will anyone notice before it's too late?
Is she ready, is this her fate?
Will she let this all slip away?
Is there anything left for her to say?
With her glassy eyes and those faraway looks,
Her steady walk and pile of books,
She walks down the halfway for one last time,
The bells in her mind have begun to chime.
She'll leave the people that have caused so much p
An Angry GirlShe wakes up in the morning
Hoping for a new day
In her mind everything's good
For now everything's going her way
But when she opens her mouth
That smile starts to fade
And she says things to people
Not realizing the pain she's made
She's such an intelligent girl
But she has so much anger
She doesn't know the source of it
And that's her biggest danger
So she prays to the Lord
And cries all alone
Hoping for the guidance
Wishing the anger was all gone.
DyingYou see a smile on the outside
But that's all you can see
What if tears run down my face on the inside?
You hear a laugh on the outside
But that's all you can hear
What if I'm crying out for help on the inside?
You smell the scent I wear everyday on the outside
But that's all you can smell
What if it smells of death on the inside?
You feel soft, smooth skin on the outside
But that's all you feel
What if I'm being torn apart on the inside?
You taste sweet lips kissing you on the outside
But that's all you can taste
What if my lips taste of blood on the inside?
You can tell I'm happy on the outside
But what if you can't tell I'm dying on the inside?
Vanguard, Chapter 1: DuncanDuncan's Journal: Day 1288
I consider myself a good man. I respect women, elders, my equals, and the dead. I say a morning prayer, and an evening one. Hell, I even thank the gods for a meal, instead of immediately chowing down in the voracious manner as the other soldiers here do. By all logical means, I should be in paradise. No really, not just because I'm a good man, but also because I should be dead by now. So I ask myself: why, oh gods up there, have I ended up in hell?
1288 days. 1288 days of my life have been spent in this misery, and I'm beginning to lose faith in the glory I was promised. Some of the rookies still live in their ignorant bliss, but I've lived long enough to realize that there's not much glory to find here. “Sing the songs of glory and march into battle—-join The Crusade today!”. Such were the words of the posters The Crusade has spread all over The Mortal Realm. Gullible fools practically stand in line for these songs of glory that th
LatreuophobiaI wash off sick-sweet orange lipstick in front of a mirror as dusty as gothic romances. It tastes like oblivion, that is to say, like nothing my tongue can detect.
The door opens with a creak no private restroom could emulate. Some chick with blue bobbed hair and smeared eyeliner. I looked like that once. Ten years ago.
Getting the beer out of my hair is harder. Some men just can't take it when I'd rather they not kiss my feet or call me an angel or-
“Dayum girl, you look like a goddess.”
I gulp, taste of acid.
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