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I'm UglyI know that I’m not
I know that you know
That I know that I’m not
But I feel like it
Oh God, I feel like it
I know I’ve got clear eyes
And lovely hair
But when I look in mirrors
The imperfections scream
‘Till the tiny cracks
Become huge gaping holes
That I’m terrified you’ll see
I need to hear it
Tell me that I’m beautiful
I Was Once Told My Heart BeatsI was once told my heart beats
But how can I be sure
When my soul feels so empty
No sound so pure
As the reverberation of life
Beating in my core
So should i believe them
I'm sure they've lied before,
They said you only die once
But I first died when I was four
When daddy snuck into my room
And treated me like a whore,
And they said crying helps
That it sets the pain free
And though i cried every night
The tears never helped me,
They even said wounds heal with age
And though I got older,
Every single day
My wounds only grew deeper,
But I still continued to believe them
Even as they lied to me again
Telling me I'd find someone
Who'd save me from my pain
Someone who'd love me
For who I am
Not what I am
And past what's happened to me
Though I've searched and hoped
Believing what I was told
I was never enough for anyone
And my heart grew cold.
I was once even told
My heart beats
But that seems too lovely to believe.
Why I DiedCan I tell you how I died?
Why it rhymes with suicide.
Not because, I fell ill.
Not because, I swallowed pills.
Soon you'll see why I lie still.
Not because, I have drowned.
Not because of, Russian Roulette's
Deaf words of mine,
preach no sound.
Not because, the fault of life
Not because, the sharpened knife.
Real reason, why, tears went dry.
Not because, I jumped to fall.
Not because, this body I mauled.
The more I remember,
the harder too recall.
The true answer is i'm,
But to me,
the meaning of suicide:
Love StinksWhen you are feeling sad
what's the sense in romantic songs?
Love is good, they say...
Did I learn it all wrong?
Heart is an attention whore,
love is a vanity game,
romantic stories are just lies -
Now cover your face, and hide the shame.
Forget the trifles and common sense,
remember this one thing:
No one cares about your feelings,
love is rotten and it stinks.
Opposable Positions.Opposable Positions.
Good girls are really bad girls that never got caught
Kings and queens are insecure people that hide behind their forts.
Survivors are cowards that run away when they could’ve fought.
Celebrities are strategists and opportunists that utilise their thoughts
Teachers are failures who couldn’t make use of the lessons life taught.
It would seem then you are either one way or the other.
There is fine undefined line between enemies and lovers.
So pick and choose wisely when deciding what side you are on.
Because you can never know the person you one day might become.
A Bloody, Stupid Miracle The day we’d cured the human condition was the day I put a bullet through my head and didn’t die. It was also the day I realized how scared I actually was of death, and after hours of muscle ache from holding that gauze against my open skull, after the wound closed and everything went back to normal, I had myself a good old-fashioned brainstorm. How ironic.
But when summer came, everything had fallen to shit. The air scorched my skin and parched my tongue every time I took a breath. The sun glared down on a rapidly-collapsing world, full of the undying bastard children of cruelty and misfortune. What was one to do when their cells regenerated faster than they decomposed?
My feet hit the pavement, now littered with jagged bits of glass to snap at my toes, thoroughly baked by the blazing ball of bitter disdain high overhead. Today was worse than yesterday. Though I’d often wondered the purpose of it anymore, I
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