Empty place in my soulIs filling my mindIt's goneGone, nothing left butMemoriesThe good,The bad,The funny,The sad,All of them,That's all that's left.The empty placeI have in my soul wasOnce filled, filled withGood times, AmazingTimes from thisYearI would do anythingNot to part company withThese amazing peopleWho have capturedMy heart,My mind,My soul,Who have made meThe person who I amToday, the personI call me.Now, my soul isRipped apart,Saying goodbyeMaybe forForever.Forever.Such a crazy word.Maybe untilNext year.This empty place in my soul,I want it filled, yetI don't, I don't want toReplace thoseMemories.The good,The bad,The funny,The sad,Any of them.They cannot be replaced.Let me live!My soul is crying,Waiting for those amazingPeople just to come back,Take their rightful placeIn my soul,As my friends,Irreplaceable friends.My soul cries,Screaming as it cracksYet some more,Knowing that I won'tSee many of
Collection of Original LyricsWake me up when you get the wakeup call that I love youChase me when you chase down the fact that you belong to meWrite me when you finally get the love letter I wrote youJust hold me close and save meThe wind will always guide us to safetyJust give it up and fly up to the heavens with me, babyBut don't leave me, darlingI've never felt this way beforeLike that feeling you get in the core of your heartThat feeling that makes butterflies into time bombsAnd when you look into my eyes, I meltBut that's just love for you, babyBut this time you don't have to chase meBecause I'm not in for the raceBecause you already have the keys to the gates of my heartMaybe, oh just maybe babyWe should stay a little longerAnd wait until it's darkerSo we can have some funLet's just get out and run until the sun drops downAnd we can say it loudThat the days are gonna get betterSo let's make like letters andPut U and I togetherMaybe we could fly our ways and mark our mazeUntil the lig
Worth A Thousand WordsPeople sayThat a picture is worthA thousand words.I'll tryTo paint a pictureIn your mind.A pictureThat may not beVery pretty.The world we live inIs painted with swirls ofClouds, orFoaming ocean waves.This worldCan we even call it a world,Tainted with evil and hatredIn almost every person's heart?That very same world,We live,We laugh,We cry.The world we live inIs painted withBrisk strokes,People hurrying by.Other daysAre lazy days.The brush is slow and steady.Nowhere to get toIn a hurry,So sit back and enjoyThe slow,RhythmicMotionOf the brush,Painting the picture in your mind.This world we live in,Is gentle,With fields of flowers,Creeks creeping along.This world we live inCan be harsh,With hurricanes,Tsunamis,BlizzardsTyphoons.The world we live inIs special,From North to South Pole.Each personHas his or her own place,In this big empty world,But it isn't accepted,Sometimes.In this world we live inPeople judge.And most people say,"A
GoodbyeLive a little longerThe stars are shining brighter,They're shining for youCome with me,And dance in the moonlightIt can only get better from hereBecause I say I love youTonight I swore I'd only speak the truthPlease, baby promise meYou'll stay to watch another sunset with meJust wait a little longerYou'll be alrightThe stars will shine oh-so-rightLay back into the grassJust watch the clouds and your problems passInto the mystery of the starsBecause I tell you I love youTonight I swore I'd only speak the truthPlease, baby promise meYou'll stay to watch another sunrise with meBut where have you gone,Your passion for life, it's disappearedTo see you lie there in peaceful slumberIt's heartbreakingDon't make me say goodbyeBecause I told you I loved youThat night I swore I'd only speak the truthPlease, baby I promise youI'll watch another sunset with youIn my heart
LostI am lost.I have nowhere to go,Even if I knew which path to take."Are you lost?""Do you need a map?"No one knows the way in which I am lost.I am lost.No one to turn to,No one to guide meAway from what hurts me.I need someone,Someone to point the wayTo a place where I'm loved.After forever of beingAloneAnd lostSomeone comes and finds me.Points me in the right direction.And walks with me towardHome.
SimplicityThere was a girl, born 20th of December, year 1997.She grew each and every day lovlier…Inch by inch…Day by day…Into the young woman she has become today.But there was a sadness in her,Something she couldn't ignore.Thank you, she says to those whoHave helped her alongAll those years…Her parents,Her two best friends,Her boyfriend.Her parents and friends,She complained and cried with them all.She had only been dating herBoyfriend for a couple months,But that doesn't matter.He would send her a text,Even just a "Hey how was your day?"At the perfect moment,And it saved her life.Thank you, she says,For that simple text.
Light as AirI feel better now.About what,I'm not sure.All I know is thatWhenever I see you,I suddenly feelLighter andCan walk on air.
This worldThis world is starting to piss me off. Not this world, per say, just society. Society these days is so screwed up its not even funny. My friend texted me last night (at like 12:30 am, at that) and was talking about that. She said,"I really don't get this world anymore. Twitter, Facebook, Tumblr, texting, everywhere! You get judged. You get stabbed in the back. Because of these things people are getting bullied, lowering their self esteem, they self harm, and possibly attempt suicide. And here we are, just watching. We need to do something!"And that my friends, is the internet, at its finest.I am sickened at what people say and how people act online. People will do things they wouldn't normally do because people can't see they're faces. They use the internet to hide. Some put down others so they can be on top. It's not doing anyone good!We, as teenagers, are the next generation. A lot of us are causing distress in the lives of others. Not necessarily you or me, or the person across
Things Worth Waiting ForWaiting for heaven to danceWaiting for the rain to singWaiting for music to flyAnd I'm waiting for my dreams to come true
Who am I?People ask,"Who are you?"And every time they do,I feel like asking, in response,"Who am I?"Am I the angel I act like for my parents,Am I the genius teachers adore?Am I the jokester "friends" like to be around,Or am I the creepy kid to be avoided?Who am I?How is it possible to be so many things?If all the sides of me met one another,War would ensue.Inside my mind opposites coexist,Enemies live side by side,Begging me to ask, once more,Who am I?After all the pretending,Satisfying everyone else's needs,All that's left is me.The broken down shellWho isn't sure what to feel anymore,Who doesn't know how to act,Who doesn't know herself.She goes, I go, back to the crowds,Those who betrayed and hurt,Asking desperately,Who am I?
Broken PiecesIn an instant It shattersPick up the piecesBond them with the glue of mistrustRe-frame that perfect pictureThat you hold so dear
Beast In MeThere's a feral beast inside of me,Sleeping softly under my skin.Oh how I wish I could be free,To suffocate in my spirit of sorrow,On horrendous horizons of a tormented tomorrow.There's a wild beast inside of me,Burrowing blindly through my bones.Oh how I wish you could see,To maim that monstrosity of my mind,Under torturous thunder upon a waxing wind.There's a vile beast inside of me,Flaying furiously away my flesh.Oh how I wish I could plea,To placate that prince of parasitic persuasion,By demonic devices with a face of fascination.
a.d.h.d. and depressionsometimes i will wake up in the morning and look out from my eyes; two small, imperfect telescopes transporting me into the world. my room is bright with tender brushstrokes of light, and everything seems to have a sterile feeling. a safe feeling.i will get up with my arms and legs buckling like a doe's, delicate and beautiful but compromised. i will brush the wisps of blonde hair from my face, and yawn. yawning, i think, is lovely. it is such a delicate force; able to be stopped but worthwhile in the end.-i hate it when people stop themselves from yawning.-i will float through my house, tripping lightly down the uneven, warped stairs. i will tread on the carpet covering the visible memories of a dog.i will breathe.-i rest my head on the clear pane of glass made solely to protect; the bus goes over a pothole and dances in a violent, rhythmic way that leaves my stomach churning. i don't feel very safe.all around me, people are living their lives constantly in reality. the young
To Be Poetic To be poetic, I know of a place where dreams grow and soar high enough to scrape the sky and mix up clouds. I know of a place where fields of grass grow to be characters or stray thoughts, and every blade of grass is a detail that I've forgotten because it wasn't written down. I know a place where I'm happy, and nothing can bring me down. I also know the single weakness of that place what can destroy it. It turns the fields into dying, shriveling wisps, and the dreams are forced to shrink and are nailed in an X beneath the ribbons of pale pink shoes. They throb beneath the nails and beg to be let go, to be free. But there's a small part of them that makes them think they are the cause of their misery, and they accept the fact that they are enduring the punishment they deserve.And, in the dark of the night when they're supposed to be asleep, they whisper to nobody in particular, "I'm so sorry."
KHR BirthdaysTsuna: October 14.Reborn: October 13Gokudera: September 9Yamamoto: April 24Lambo: May 28.Hibari: May 5Ryohei: August 26Chrome: December 5thLal Mirch: February 20Skull: August 8Colonnello: July 7Basil: July 23Iemitsu (Tsuna's dad): June 15Moretti (aka 'Moretti the murdered'): febuary 19thGiotto: January 1stTimoteo(9th boss): April 17Haru: May 3rdBianchi: November 8Fuuta: January 11Kyoko: March 4Shamal: February 9I-Pin: November 25Nana: March 31stDino: February 4Romario: July 21Naito Longchamp: August 9Shouchi Irie: December 3rdMukuro: June 9Ken: July 28Chisuka: October 26Lancia: December 15The Bloody Twins: December 22ndXanxus: October 10Squalo: March 13Levi a than: November 14Belphegor/Rasiel (The twin Princes): December 22Marmon: July 2Lussuria: April 4
The night, the song and the poem of the deadKiller inspirationBrought me down to tearsObscure decimationBrought me to my fearsIn the night of the "living" dead we smileWe kissWe loveWe liveWe greet the starry whispers of the swaying infernal abyssIn the song of the "living" dead we danceWe singWe laughWe kneelWe breathe particles of dead matter that engulf our soulsIn the poem of the "living" dead I mustconfess
While there is nothing else to be said I must still say the truth before you
I believe there is nothing either alive or dead in this worldFor this futile representative of the astral dimensions is a failure as big as our ownpathetical existence
For we humans do not know how to pat, do not know how to "exist"We only destroy!This will be the night, the song and the poem of the "living" dead
The dead creatures in our own hearts and minds
They are our sorrows
As this apocalyptic song has got no rhythm
I sway to this dead beat
I dare you to follow me!
Best placeDoesn't the shower seem like the best place to have a mental break down?You can cry and no one will hear a soundYou can let the tears go and pretend it's just the water splashing all aroundNo one is there to mock you or give you false pityNo one to coo at you and reiterate that your life is shittySo take as long as you want, no one will stop youJust go and stand, and do what you need to do
A SmileI'm waiting terrified for the last decision,You gently touch the knife,My heart is pounding, waiting for the lethal incision,I almost see the blade shedding the liquid of life,I hear myself choking with my own blood,The sound of the knife rending my flesh - a deafening thud.But your hand goes further; over the axe it leans,Shining ruthless under your fingers,I'm about to die, by all means,A sick suspense lingers,I almost hear the sound of my breaking bones,The gushing blood, the moans,But no; your hand, well, further it goes."A gun? "With it easily it will be done,Infix the cold metal and let me bleed to death,"Will it be fun? "Just imagine the blood outflow until the last breath,"Or a hammer? "My body you could simply mash,But you'll need to endure the blood splash,That will stain your hands and face.But instead that, your fingers, they retrace."The most lethal weapon isn't any of these",You say stepping back, as my heart is starting to appease,"It would be to
She Doesn't Fall Too Far From ForeverFleeing from fear of fateFighting for fear of hateLiving and dyingPerpetually cryingShe keeps trying to get out of Hell.Hey is this ringing any bells?You can't see how far she fellcause she hides it all too well.No one ever sees her scarsSince she's keeping her heart barredThough she don't know how to flyShe's still looking to the skyAlways wanting to dieHabitually telling lieswondering when things went awryNever knowing where she's goingFlowing where the crowd's blowingAlways being told who to beBy people who are thinking she's diseasedLittle girl of glass looking at her life lineCrimson regret because she didn't realignThe cracks are defined where she started to declineNow the friendly taste of poison is so divineChorusShe doesn't fall too far from forever nowLeft clinging onto a wisp of cloudBetter save her before she hits the groundWith eyes of emberShe'll make sure she's rememberedFighting to keep from dyingstealing to keep on buyingkilling to go on
Afraid of the NightA struggle for sleep with screaming silenceDarkness cloaks the building violenceIn a state of fear that rattles my nervesFor the blissful sunrise my soul yearnsCreatures searching, for blood they seekThe Eyes that watch as I fall asleepBlood runs through me cold as iceLet free the earthbound sacrificeSwirling and twisted, the shadows stainA throbbing fear that fills my brainA gaseous shadow in front of meWhat is this black figure I see?A demon which whispers empty soundWith a snarling face and teeth of a houndI hide beneath my blanket and sheetsWith each step, the floorboards creekAdvancing closer I hear its breathBracing for my untimely deathA dash to the light switch saves my lifeI have survived another night
Little Girl, Little GirlShe was like the moon,part of her was hidden away.That small yearning to swoonoverwhelmed by heat of the day.Little girl, little girlwhy are you crying?Inside your restless soulyour heart is dying.In the end you were meant to runfrom the absolute start,to find the truth behind the 'fun'and protect your fragile heart.I know how it is my dear,to have that doubt making fear.To see the infinite liesand eventual demise.To become enraptured in want of truthmaking you an almost too accurate sleuth.But something has already changed,as your heart has became deranged.Because you've always seen them run away,instead of accepting the consequenceof losing their desired win today.Merely adding to your pain's sequence.Don't push yourself too hard,the sky's not going anywhere.Working for your dreams is a great thing,though too much can cause you suffering.She became like the moon,part of her was hidden away.That small yearning to swoonoverwhelmed by heat of the day.Litt
Brittle GirlThey fashioned her from their brittle bones,whittled away at the wilted, weakened hearts,The ones that had erratic beatings.They put her together just to take her apart.She danced across their puppet strings,followed their each and every rule.Now she's realized she was never important,all this time she was such a fool.A fool to think she was wanted,and a fool to believe that she mattered.Looking back it's time she noticedeverything at home was shattered.So now she's strengthening those brittle bones,and trying to feed that weakened heart.She's making every preparationso that no one can ever take her apart.
catch the stars to remember her wishesi.she rememberes the little things first.her favorite color is purpleshe likes blueberry pancakes,and leaves pennies face-up on random street corners.even with these pieces, it feels likea huge chunk has been torn away that she could never retrieveii.there are scars on her personshe does not remember getting.her body is a map of memoriesshe does not know how to read.iii.they say she used to be calm and collected,but now she is hot and fiery,and they don't know her anymore.but that's okay, because she doesn't know herself.iv.she misses the sun,and the bad school coffee and English projectsand her own bedand the person she was before.even though she can't remember, she misses.v.when they tell her what happened,car crash. one dead, one survived.internal bleeding. damage to the brain.amnesia. amnesia. amnesia.and she doesn't remember but she flashes between imageslike loose strings that she can't help pulling.a hand to hold. a quick
PARENTSPARENTS.THEY FILL YOU WITH CRAP.SO YOU TAKE A SHIT.AND THEY BLAME YOU FOR DOING SO.THOUGH IT WAS THEM WHO POTTY TRAINED YOU.
Life's PaintingLife is like a painting.You can't use the sameBrush for every singleThing; it'll all lookMuddy. YouNeed to clean theBrush, and grab aDifferent one toSuit the occasion.
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