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JessicaThe sun shining brightly outside my window rouses me from my dreams. I stretch, my arms above my head, and try to fight the nausea that settles in the pit of my stomach. Another day, another 24 hours pretending to be something I'm not. The pain in my chest was tightly constricting, and was almost enough to make me never want to open my eyes again.
None the less, I dragged myself out of bed, standing up and stretching once more, forcing my eyes to open despite their protests at opening. I glanced down at my body with a sort of wistful hopefulness, and stiffled a groan; nothing had magically changed overnight. I didn't really expect anything different.
"Kylie?" I heard my mother call me from downstairs. I flinched slightly at the use of my birth name but forced a smile into my tone and called back down,
"Yeah, I'm up! Be down in just a second!" I reached into my dresser and pulled out my favorite pair of Wrangler jeans, slipping them on quickly over my boxers.
"Come into the kitchen, dea
Dealing With Demons“What can be more exciting than working with spuds?” my father asked me after graduation. I had just finished telling him I wanted to go to college. It was obvious he was perplexed, and obvious why. He never went to college, his father never went to college, and his grandfather never went to college. Most of the family had never even finished high school. I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life, but I knew for a fact I did not want to be a potato farmer. Mrs. Margaret, our school guidance counselor who was also our only English teacher, had me believing that there might be a better option. No, not better. Just different. And I desperately wanted different. Something beyond plowing the field, and harvesting potatoes for the rest of my life.
I always loved to write, so when my first English assignment was to interview a local person we considered a hero in our lives, I was beyond excided. But the only problem was I had no one to interview. I thought about intervi
Turn Back TimeThe last person I expected to see here was Luke. Don’t get me wrong; this wouldn’t change anything. This was still my job, and I was going to do it, with or without some snotty wanna-be rock star sitting at my bar. I was just going to march my way up there, relieve Lacey from duty, and take over mixing drinks until three a.m., like I always did on Tuesday night. Taking a controlled breath to calm my raging nerves, I walked up to the bar, refusing to look at the man with pitch black hair who’s eyes snapped to my figure as I turned the corner.
“Hey, you!” Lacey said, kissing my cheek in greeting, as she does every night. “I was beginning to worry you weren’t going to make it in. Traffic bad?” she asked. I shook my head.
“Car broke down.” I explained softly, careful not to let Luke overhear. Lacey’s eyes widened.
“You walked here?!” she exclaimed. I flinched and tried not to smile at her shocked, slightly mother
Addiction Chapter 1-AmandaAmanda
I would die for a cigarette, Amanda thought to herself, sitting in her senior English class, drumming her fingers nervously on her desk. She had managed to sneak three at lunch, and another two in between 5th and 6th period, but the urge to light up again burned strong in her veins. She shifted in her seat, uncrossed and then crossed again her legs, and glanced up at the clock on the wall. It had only been three minutes. She sighed aloud, and started to chew on her thumbnail, ignoring the teacher as he droned on about some book that the class was supposed to be reading. The Scarlet…something, she couldn’t remember right then. All she knew was she needed a cigarette, and badly.
You didn’t used to be such a cig whore, she mentally chastised herself as she glanced again at the clock that seemed to never move; only one minute had passed. She fought the urge to groan. It was true, it didn’t used to be this bad, but she knew she didn’t have a problem. Pe
Only YouNo one's ever made me feel as loved,
No one's ever made me feel as safe,
No one's ever made me feel worth it,
And then there's you.
You make me feel like the world,
Can't go on without me in it.
You make me feel like the universe,
Won't be right without my life.
You make me feel like the world is not worth seeing,
Without me by your side.
Can make me feel alive.
Nothing's ever mattered to me,
Until I met you that day.
And no one has ever meant so much,
As you have since that day.
And no one will ever understand me,
Quite like you do.
There's only you.
You make me feel like your life,
Is better because of me.
You make me feel like everything,
Will be alright if you're with me.
You make me feel like nothing else has meaning,
If you and I can't be.
Can make me feel this way.
Sometimes, we will scream and yell.
Sometimes, I'll put you through hell.
And sometimes, you'll drag me down after you,
Otherworldly LoveNo one before her noticed me,
And no one mattered since.
Whenever I needed her,
She was there in a pinch.
Her name mattered little,
And so she never gave it.
I ended up giving her one of my own,
And she poudly loved to say it.
She told me she was not from here,
And had to make it back.
But back to where, I never knew,
Assistance I did lack.
I did not wish to return her,
To that place beyond the stars,
The place she swore she came from;
I'd rather keep her in my arms.
I tried to dazzle and charm her,
Tried to keep her in with me.
But I knew deep down in my heart,
It wasn't meant to be.
Strange things began to happen,
To my lady love and me.
But despite her warnings to steer clear,
I wouldn't let her be.
I followed her one day,
To a clearing by the lake,
I sat with her in silence,
While she cried, more than I could take.
She told me where she came from,
Told me about her home.
Told me how much she wanted to return,
And I begged her not to go alone.
We ran together through the dark,
A message to the brokenYou drown yourself
in liquid sorrows,
letting the salty mess
burn your wounds,
and the sadness
to drip in your mouth,
consuming your words
and you say
you deserve the pain,
but I want to dry your face,
and whisper in your ear
how the clouds cry too,
while they hold such beauty,
and so do you.
Pretty metaphors are for pretty girlsI told you to stop
spewing pretty metaphors at me,
for with each elaborate comparison,
I feel a bit more
detached from this world
And maybe I don’t feel so strong at the moment,
but would you be
if you felt like the entire universe
was resting upon your shoulders,
and someone was just there saying:
But you’re stronger than the powerful beats
of a butterfly’s wings
And maybe I do need more confidence,
but would you exuberate it
when the part you hated most about yourself
were the freckles that have speckled your face for years,
and someone was just there muttering:
They’re not flaws,
but rather stars that form constellations
Yes, I can’t help but hate
all those unrealistic metaphors
you choose to pelt at me when I’m low,
yet the irony is,
I know that those beautiful words
are realistic in your eyes,
So I can’t hate you.
dark circlesi haven't slept well in 14 days
my eyes droop pretty colors
'50 shades of purple and grey,
they're bags and they're designer'
making jokes is how i cope
with chapped lips and constant chap-stick
it tastes like honey and mint
i laugh and say i'm addicted.
hooded lids and sleepy smiles
during lunch at subway
my friends ask if I'm okay
I say that I'm just tired.
but really when I see him with her
my heart sinks to the tiles
she's pretty and witty and sure as hell she can sing
and i'm just a loud bone-collector.
when I see her with him,
dancing and laughing and grinning,
the ring on her finger
laughs at my singularity.
for as much as i lie and as much as i try
my loneliness still creeps in,
because no matter how much they protest,
i'm still the lowly fifth-wheel.
walking behind them on sidewalks
that are wide, but built for four
smiles and laughs when they look back
but the frown creeps evermore.
pelvis peaks through paper-thin skin
and knuckles white and pale
my ribs are empty, my bo
Clear WristA clear wrist, barren of scars,
as opposed to skin sauntered in marks,
tells a trickier story than it's soiled and raw,
uncaring, unkempt counter part.
Bravery, I think it holds,
the strength to bare unimaginable loads
of pain and suffering through endless times,
and withstanding the agony of sleepless nights.
Some think it is fear, the reluctance to cut,
but I believe it opposite, it show courage and guts.
To bear your pain without a nick on your wrist,
is like a solider braving his terrain while being torn limb from limb.
Agonizing as it is, to hide your pain,
you do it so well, and no attention you'll gain.
At the end of the day, it's not cry for attention,
rather a cry for the victory that's silently mentioned.
Your scars are those not self inflicted,
and despite the gnawing intention,
to harm yourself and ease your pain,
the scars you earn are rightfully gained.
In a room of those who have jumped the gun,
and left traces of blood deep in their arms,
do not be tempted to do the sam
specter boys have always looked best sinkinghe says,
i want to count all 206 &
feel the notches of your ribs -
i want you, weary boy, to
phase yourself down while
you are burning inside out.
i will seethe inside your skull
like thoughts, like cigarette filters;
you will thank me as i molder in your marrow.
Moira (Excelsior)Moira (Excelsior)
hands clap over my eyes
like a chain clasp
linking lace around my neck.
and our clutch.
splitting into a wide upward curve,
canines and incisors cut through screens.
time rotates in a downward degree
360 degrees infinitely,
but the days are confined to finite.
and if i could, i'd connect the 12 lines
and walk along them endlessly.
i'd lose the ability to dream
and i'd never have to mingle
with the cousin of death.
living forever as a verb,
until time laps around the track
about 10 million times before
it has lost its legs.
i don't wanna sleep,
i want to dream
in an empirical reality.
hold the old time in my hand
and let the prospect bleed
into the prophecy.
These Faded KeysOf all the keys I click
As we speak each day,
It's the back arrow
That's faded most
These white letters
Would surely tell you,
I reply to everything -
But the key reading "enter"
Will be the one to explain
Why it still looks new
I want you to know
Just how much I care,
But I don't want to be close
Out of the fear of losing you
But please remember:
I dedicate these words to you,
Sharing them to the world
Rather than clicking away
At the faded key ~
Tonight, I finished a roll of toilet paper
that I had started
a month, 8 days,
two hours, and 21 minutes ago.
Its genesis, June 11th,
one of the worst nights of my life,
I took a roll from my small bathroom,
and silently tucked it under my arm.
I couldn't let my girls know.
They couldn't know
I was going to use this as my broom.
They couldn't know
that I swept my shattered heart
under my bed.
And I wept.
My pillow taking my abuse,
my suffocation and my attacks.
My fingers squeezing it for dear life
and my knuckles as I punched it,
imagining it was her.
Then hugging it.
I only cried that hard
when I was about 6.
She was gone.
And so was I.
I cried every night
which would've marked
our 7-month anniversary.
And in the late days of that month,
I lied to myself.
And for that,
I regret every moment.
I wasn't ready.
At least I stopped it,
before we drowned each other
like the last woman.
Two weeks lat
Pieces of MemoriesWhat is it that causes,
A heart to break?
What is it that makes,
Risk free to take?
Do I miss you,
Or am I forelorn?
I'm not dissatisfied;
Why am I torn?
Your name rolls in my head,
Although I've long since moved on.
So what do I feel,
I'm missing out on?
My life is perfect,
Without you in it.
Let go of my heart;
You'll never win it.
My heart beats for someone,
True to the end.
Do I miss you as just a friend?
I know that you,
Truly hate me.
Is that you your memory,
Won't let me be?
I've got nothing to say,
And I know neither do you.
So I guess I'll go on and wonder,
If from time to time,
For no reason or rhyme,
Are you unable to help,
Thinking of me too?
Keep in Touch!