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Lemons My mother has never liked the taste of lemons. They are too sour, displeasing. That’s probably why she doesn’t like me.
At 1 year old, I said my first word. “Mama”, I said in bold, thinking I was already old. At 3 years old, my parents told me goodnight stories; stories of dreams,
As the colors fade and slowly turn to grey, I rise from the ashes, color blossoming from within me. I hear a whisper behind me, But I dare not look back.
Her eyes blaze with guilt, and an outrage at being guilty. Being caught. I patiently wait for the crows, who so lovingly printed their feet
I always wanted to be there. Helping with homework on a Tuesday night. Getting to hear about your day. Haven't got that since your mother took you away. Not just to one town over, but next to Dover.
Some people Love it Hate it Indifferent I hate them I go into a daze I get depressed I cry for no reason I have mood swings I feel like rather Than everyone is
And there was a simple time Much unlike now Whereas she who cried Was surrounded by people Then came along something that Suffocated her mind and body Left her for dead and sung deeply
The dais of the house is doing nothing but helping it stand, One little brandish will tear the abode down to a bloody pulp, Just like my family;
The lights on the ceiling blurred my vision As I lay on my back, Humming low. The world is cruel to The young who Have no place to go. And the first thing I saw when I stepped into the open
I say fuck the people that so called “raised-me” Really the don’t give a fuck about me lately Should I talk it out with them? I don’t know, Maybe But in this stage it seems impossible
A knife to my chest Or a gun to my head as i breathe my last breath though im already dead Who cares if i die Or is this just satans lies its myself i despise All these tears i done cried
would you miss me if i died? Would you stay up late at night if you knew today was my goodbye would you try when you woke because your the one who wished it on me would you try to call the next day
I let it go. I gave up. I stood my ground and was put down.
She does not know when to behave, never asked me if I am ok, criticizing and jabbing at my brain, the pounding heartbreaking pain. She knows there is someone to blame,
Trapped. She is trapped with no way out. The fraction of hope that she contains is the only thing that is keeping her sane, if that is what she is. At this point, there is no doubt in her mind that he will return.
Drowning. She is drowning in the loneliness that is clouding her thoughts. When she thought. If she thought; she thinks she feel him, just in the back of her mindset.
"he's still here." here. Here and gone. The words meld into one. I screamed. I cried. I lost my mind. Is it possibly to feel so much at the same time?
All these walls seem to hear lately
The painting on your livingroom wall the one with daffodils or an evening sky the one that's hung so tall for all to see, yet it's all a lie you will see Hung within a golden frame
There is this deepness, Darknes, Burning in me. Begging me to give in. Striving for approval, Reaching for hope, Wondering, Waiting, Just to be told.
She says it's okay. / She says it's alright, / But all I can see, / Is that slowly dying light. / So deeper I go, / And deeper I sink, / Till all sound muffles, / Then is gone in a wink.
In the absence,a state of mind is created to thwart,a powerful enemy one faces toward his creators.Although blood is entangled within a knot of memories.
Standing there as my throated constricted Every word he said left me a little more jilted So much to say but no one who wanted to hear So much to hope for 'cause there was so much to fear