Too LateMistaken identity and constant lies
Pretending to be someone else
Laughing when expected with a plaster smile
Sharp arrows piercing the heart
Numbed senses and dull nerves
Skin snowy to the touch
Lifeless eyes staring straight ahead
Hidden behind a wall; no one sees in, no one sees out
Soft sighs and gritted teeth
Holding back disappointment and rage
Biting the tongue till copper bleeds
Sick of everyone asking for more than what there is
Throbbing head and arthritis in the hand
Words flowing to the paper, never pausing at the mouth
No one listens to the quiet
When they do, it's probably too late
Lonely StarlightShooting stars rain across the midnight sky,
The moon has disappeared behind a shadow.
A gentle mist rolls across the blades of grass,
And branches smack against each other as the wind whispers in their ears.
The howls of the lone grey wolf echoes in the silent night.
His head tipped back toward the sky,
His howls become hushed wishes and desires.
The lone wolf takes a deep breath and breathes the greatest wish of all.
He is alone with no pack to call his own.
Tears of regret wash the blood from his fur.
Hunters and beasts try to attack him;
He is trapped in a cage to survive.
The lone grey wolf opens his fiery golden eyes as he lowers his head.
Freedom is what he wishes for, what he howls to the stars fro.
To be safe and have a place he can call home.
Not as a lone wolf, but as a member of a pack that will accept him.
Cracked MaskFor as long as I can remember I have forced myself to change who I am. I mirror the personalities of others to the point I have lost my individuality. I don't know who I am anymore. However, that isn't what truly scares me. What scares me is that no one has ever seen past the mask I have created. No one has taken a second look into my eyes or questioned my reasoning. I met my boyfriend January 16, 2010. He saw me when no one else has. He helped me through my problems and was with me every step of the way through my recovery. I found a piece of myself because of him. I found my confidence to tell the world who I am and the Hell I have put myself through to make sure those around me are happy.
I have pushed my issues to the side just so that others don't worry. I pretend to be strong when in reality I am weak. Most of the time, when people are speaking to me, my thoughts are elsewhere or I am thinking to myself, "I don't care." I have put myself down and killed my soul slowly just to mak
RantingI am pathetic; worthless even.
I'm not good enough for you, I know this.
You deserve so much more, someone who isn't afraid.
I hate myself.
These thoughts never end.
They come when I feel a sense of loneliness.
They tell me that I don't deserve him.
They tell me that I should fall in a ditch and break a leg.
Thing is though, these are my thoughts.
The voice is mine. The fear is mine.
I have come close to mental breakdowns because of this nonsense.
Maybe I need help. But then that would disappoint him because he knows I don't need it.
I know I don't need help.
This is just a phase whenever I think too much.
But I can't stop thinking or else I go insane.
So, it's either insanity or misery?
Insanity would probably be more fun.
But it could lead to self-harming.
Misery can be fixed by happiness.
But who knows how long it will last.
No one has any idea how bad this affects me.
I pretend that I'm ok.
That I can handle anything life throws at me.
It's just a bit difficult to handle myself.
Run Like Hell
Flick the flame on in the darkened night.
Close in on the wick until you're just about there.
Count to three.
One. Two. Three.
Run like hell.
The wick is caught and sparks fly as the flame races toward ignition.
A loud pop like a bomb going off rings in your ears.
A spark flies into the night sky, climbing higher to the stars.
Another pop and color is falling overhead.
Crackles of gunpowder hitting sparks echo through the hills.
Thuds of empty shells hit the wet grass.
The pitter patter of rain droplets hit your skin.
Another loaded shell is dropped into the barrel.
The lighter is positioned and flickered awake.
One. Two. Three.
Run like hell.
Two shots fly toward the sky and explode with an array of colors.
The barrel tips over.
Screams and laughter fill your ears as sparks and explosions whiz past you.
The rain droplets take out the remaining sparks.
You run like hell out of the downpour and into the garage where it's dry.
People are scurrying around to save the food and fun.