emo

it was unmatched life experience that bestowed in her eyes the sultry gleam that separates women from girls. although she viewed her __ife experience_ like bruises on a peach, men of all ages still found ways to see past the indications of damaged goods long enough to offer her a drink. hell, it was less than an hour ago that one such man called her __othic perfection_ and cried on her shoulder. her boyfriend agreed that a crazy life can __row a girl up quick_; it was only last november that she turned seventeen.

So it's back once more, back up the slope.Why do they always ruin my ropewith their cuts?I felt so ready the other day,Had a real foretaste of eternityIn my guts.Spoonfeeding me yet another sipfrom life's cup.I don't want it, won't take any more of it.Let me throw up.Life is medium rare and good, I see,And the world full of soup and bread,But it won't pass into the blood for me,Just goes to my head.It makes me ill, though others it feeds;Do see that I must deny it!For a thousand years from now at leastI'm keeping a diet.

I am touched by her life, how it moves forward, pulses and springs. There is no fragmentation, nothing stunted or wedged. I circle back, I regress, the past doesn't let go. It might as well be a malfunction, a scene repeating itself, a scratched vinl record, a stutter.

Behind this smile in my faceLies the dark shadow of emptinessHiding from your eyes within my gazeConcealed with sham happiness.

Most parents try really hard to give their kids the best possible life. They give them the best food and clothes they can afford, take their own kind of take on training kids to be honest and polite. But what they don't realize is no matter how much they try, their kids will get out there. Out to this complicated little world. If they are lucky they will survive, through backstabbers, broken hearts, failures and all the kinds of invisible insane pressures out there. But most kids get lost in them. They will get caught up in all kinds of bubbles. Trouble bubbles. Bubbles that continuously tell them that they are not good enough. Bubbles that get them carried away with what they think is love, give them broken hearts. Bubbles that will blur the rest of the world to them, make them feel like that is it, that they've reached the end. Sometimes, even the really smart kids, make stupid decisions. They lose control. Parents need to realize that the world is getting complicated every second of every day. With new problems, new diseases, new habits. They have to realize the vast probability of their kids being victims of this age, this complicated era. Your kids could be exposed to problems that no kind of therapy can help. Your kids could be brainwashed by themselves to believe in insane theories that drive them crazy. Most kids will go through this stage. The lucky ones will understand. They will grow out of them. The unlucky ones will live in these problems. Grow in them and never move forward. They will cut themselves, overdose on drugs, take up excessive drinking and smoking, for the slightest problems in their lives. You can't blame these kids for not being thankful or satisfied with what they have. Their mentality eludes them from the reality.

I remember only images, snapshots burned into me, bleeding into each other until I no longer knew the order in which they had happen.

If ever you feel lost, terrified, alone, emotionally and physically drained...when you feel like depression has overpowered you, and that the world itself, has devoured you...just remember that you are not alone, you are loved, you are a beautiful story waiting to be told._ -Nina Jean Slack, Once Lost, Forever Found (Vol. #1)

Always write exactly what you__e feeling at the exact moment when writing something like poetry or an emotional novel. Put yourself, pour all emotions into your work_make yourself cry, feel joy if you are writing joyful things, feel lovey if it calls for it_just put your heart and soul into all that you do_then you will be a good writer when you can make whoever reads your work, feel." -Nina Jean Slack

she...let the blood spill down instead of tears.

I spend my nights thinking the worstAnd telling myself that everything's going to work outI keep kicking myself in the mouthOpening up every cut that should be a scar by now

I'm sorry for breaking down when I should've been stitching myself back up

You used to make me feel like I could walk on waterNow most nights I'm just sinking down and downYou're the reason why I can't listen to the same songs I used to

Im okay Im okay now. But you really need to listen to me 'cause im telling you the truth I mean this im okay Trust me... Im not okay ...Well okay im not okay. Im not o-f cking-kay

You really fucked me up this time for good, even though you didn't mean to

I fell over twice. It was loud. The garden was black outside our circle of light. The endless night stretched all around us, so we told each other that we had to be close together, together in the dark.

Life is but a dream for the dead.

Should have taken warning it's justPeople mourningRunning, hiding, lostYou can't find, find a place to go, so it'sRed skies at nightRed skies at night, whoa oh, oh oh oh, oh-oh-oh-oh-oh... red skies at night, red skies at night, whoa oh, oh oh oh...Someone's taking over, and it look like they're aiming right at you...Someone said we'll be dead by morning...Someone cries, leaving... red skies at night, whoa oh-h-h

Just because I wear black and keep a private journal, that doesn't mean I'm going to blow up the school. Or terrorize mindless cheerleaders, for that matter.