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KarmaI don't want to spend another day basking in your wrath, taking the heat for something you brought upon yourself.
[It's called karma. And baby, what goes around comes around. Take a good look in that shattered mirror. Just swallow your pride and bite the bullet and save not only me-- but yourself.]
Well what do you expect from someone so young?
Someone who's only hope lies within her mind,
and only arrives well into the night.
Well what do you expect from someone so broken?
Someone who's weak and fragile inside,
who shouldn't have to grin and bear it all the time.
Well what do you expect from someone so blamed?
Someone who's been walked all over,
who will crumble without defense.
Well what do you expect from someone so ignored?
Someone who might fade from the world
should she be forgotten for too long.
Well what do you expect from someone so lonely?
Someone who just wants somebody to confide in,
to kiss, to hug, to hold, and to cherish.
Well what do you expect from someone one so betrayed?
Someone who's been stabbed in the back so many times
that she has permanent blood stains that will never come clean.
From Ice Princess to Monsteryou've spent an eternity writing on that chalkboard,
sucking in it's dust,
hearing the dragging of the monster's nails,
forever in the back of your mind,
waiting to jump out when you're most vulnerable.
but who's to say your punishment was valid,
who's to say you are guilty?
you're spineless and easily manipulated,
that alone should be punishment enough,
at least in the eyes of the sympathetic.
but who's to say you are innocent?
you broke apart a family,
just like you broke every piece of chalk,
and when necessary,
wiped them away with a brush,
leaving them in your dust.
But once a slave to the monster,
always a slave to the monster
even it if disguises itself as an Ice Princess wearing a crystal crown.
An Angry Ocean of BlueEyes brightest when angry,
an ocean of blue.
But they scream danger,
Smoldering and maddened,
at every little thing.
the wrath taken out on me,
bruises to hide.
Yes he may have been caught,
but I still shake and shiver,
because I'm sure he'll be back for more
SolitaryTrigger warning: Discussion of sanity and suicide.
The plan had been so simple. Thirty six hours in solitary confinement, Meredith was struggling. Last week this had all seemed so simple. So obvious. It seemed like she had devised the perfect escape plan. Things weren't working out as intended.
Firstly, and above all else - even breathing or thinking - there was the thirst. Her throat roared with it and she could feel its acidic anger snarl its way up and down her throat with each breath. She'd imagined discomfort, but not pain. She was starting to reconsider.
Her tongue was sore. The slab of meat in her mouth felt like unswallowed food as it got drier, and the taste when she could summon enough saliva to swallow was rancid, and reminded her of her ex boyfriends unwanted dry probings. In a desperate bid for freedom a few hours ago she had tried biting through her tongue, people did it in prison so she knew it was possible, but the pain was too sharp to work through and she didn'
CollideStanding side by side
The two worlds collide
What I see, hear, and feel
Is it fake or is it real
If its fake
Dear God let me wake
If its real
Please let me appeal
I feel my heart beating
But my brain is fleeting
My body feels out of place
Nothing is in the right space
My face looks distorted
My eyes all contorted
But who am I to know
The way it's supposed to go
So many people standing around
It's such a deafening sound
Along with the people in my head
I go whichever way I am led
Dizzy spells ensue
Clear moments are few
I can't talk correctly
Without being told directly
I am not who you think
I am not who I think
I am not who anyone think
I am the product of the writers ink
Her voice calls
As she falls.
The light falls
As I reply.
She cries out
The call to
I will save you
Just hold on.
LostIn a forgotten island, dead with cold,
Where living souls could never dare to look,
A lonely maker of ideas, pulled
From a chaotic world where love had ruled,
Now walks defiant roads that no one took.
But slowly a deep anguish he could sense,
When struck by memories of where he'd been,
Of loveless thoughts scattered by him in vain,
Of the attack of words that caused deep pain,
As it confused the fragile hearts he'd seen.
Where was the lover of ideas now?
And where were those he never understood?
The ones that felt life like he never sought,
While he could see the world all in a thought
And worship silence everywhere he stood.
Now all was gone away and all was new,
With not a chain of love left to untie.
As all of anguish and of past he'd known
Has burned and he's now left to think alone
Where new ideas soon grow old and die.
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