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bridgette-sydney
I'm 17, new at the whole writing bit but I'm learning. My favorite poem you ask? The Lady Of Shallot. Read it and I bet you will enjoy it. My name is Sydney, Bridgette Sydney to be exact, but I go by Sydney. Here are quick facts. / *I'm vegan (but I am open-minded to others diets and I haven't always been vegan) / *I don't drink caffeine (used to) / *I'm a short girl only 5ft 10 inches;). No, I am actually really tall. Not to mention clumsy. / *Favorite books? Kiss The Girls, Skipping Christmas, Pug Sheridan, and The Tale of Desperaux (Yes, I read it in 5th grade but it was my first book I thoroughly enjoyed). / *Songs? White Houses by Vanessa Carlton, Tautou by Brand New, Man Who Can't Be Moved by The Script / / Now to my writing. It is always written with care, but I never follow any sort of "guidelines", and it can get depressin. Although, me, yes me. I'm not depressing, a rather happy girl with a love for rain, dresses, eclectic furniture and clothes can anyone say hipster?
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He has been seeing someone else I asked and only lying cards were dealt. With my heart broken, deflated in my chest I begin to wonder if I should lay myself to rest. I watch my life now, through an old whiskey bottle drinking till I find hope at the bottom. Turning it up so the liquid coats my pain My eyes roll back as it flows through my veins. The taste of my emotions leave my mouth dry I turn the bottle back higher in the sky. Tears leak from my poisoned eyes as slowly all memories begin to die. More tears than that from a broken heart tears for my life, and my time to depart. I let all my demons fill my insides with an ear-pierceing laugh as I plan my demise. Will my mother cry when she gets the call or solemnly explain "She caused her fall."? Will my father sob when he sees the headstone "The one that lies here died all alone"? Will my sister crumble down to the floor or stand tall and whisper "She chose that door"? Will he see me and remember the love he ignored or walk on by as I gasp on the floor? Will I miss this cold air I inhale or realize I'd rather been buried pale? Will I miss myself, and the one I've grown to hate or discover premature death was my fate? I have made my choice, the one that changes it all to step away from the edge and refuse the fall. But this smile can stay on my face no longer while I sit here weak and my demons grow stronger. With the taste of whiskey stll in my mouth the choice I made I begin to doubt. I hold the gun against my head and think of what's to become when I'm dead. I hear someone open the door and off goes the gun as I fall to the floor.
0
Nov 7, 2011
Nov 7, 2011 at 9:02 PM UTC
bridgette-sydney
Love Affair With A Gun.
He has been seeing someone else I asked and only lying cards were dealt. With my heart broken, deflated in my chest I begin to wonder if I should lay myself to rest. I watch my life now, through an old whiskey bottle drinking till I find hope at the bottom. Turning it up so the liquid coats my pain My eyes roll back as it flows through my veins. The taste of my emotions leave my mouth dry I turn the bottle back higher in the sky. Tears leak from my poisoned eyes as slowly all memories begin to die. More tears than that from a broken heart tears for my life, and my time to depart. I let all my demons fill my insides with an ear-pierceing laugh as I plan my demise. Will my mother cry when she gets the call or solemnly explain "She caused her fall."? Will my father sob when he sees the headstone "The one that lies here died all alone"? Will my sister crumble down to the floor or stand tall and whisper "She chose that door"? Will he see me and remember the love he ignored or walk on by as I gasp on the floor? Will I miss this cold air I inhale or realize I'd rather been buried pale? Will I miss myself, and the one I've grown to hate or discover premature death was my fate? I have made my choice, the one that changes it all to step away from the edge and refuse the fall. But this smile can stay on my face no longer while I sit here weak and my demons grow stronger. With the taste of whiskey stll in my mouth the choice I made I begin to doubt. I hold the gun against my head and think of what's to become when I'm dead. I hear someone open the door and off goes the gun as I fall to the floor.
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