jayme-mcavey
My name's Jayme. I can say I'm a unique person, I kinda just march to my own drum. I'm always up for meeting new people so message me if you want to talk. I appreciate any and all constructive criticism, and will take it into consideration. My favorite color is purple, best color in the world.
I see faces in the trees
All those souls lost in this great wood
Living their last days
Confused and hungry
Those poor lost souls
They went for a hike never to return
The faces call out to me
Join us, join us, come be our friend
Its how they lure in other souls
That's how poor souls get lost
In these beautifully dangerous woods
May 28, 2013
May 28, 2013 at 11:27 AM UTC
As the darkness closes around me,
I can not breathe,
I think i'm suffocating again,
The ice forms around my heart,
I said I love you, Well I lied
I can not take this anymore,
No more, please stop mommy your hurting me
Take your hands from around my neck
I won't be your victim anymore.
I love you to death
I won't be the victim of this sick game
You say you hate me,
I turn to the knife,
You say you love me,
I turn to you for advise,
Well not this time.
This little girl ain't so little anymore,
I won't be your punching bag
I'm tired of this sick game,
good job mom you lost both of us
The knife just isn't doing it for me
I'm taking the next step, you'll see
I'm sorry my love,
I'm sorry friend,
I'm sorry brother,
I'm sorry nephews,
But goodbye....
May 27, 2013
May 27, 2013 at 2:40 PM UTC
We are the Forgotten, the Outcasts
We are the many
We are the strong
We are the bullied, the teased
We are the ones you left in the dirt
We are the ones you cared nothing of
We are the ones you laughed at
We are the Emos, the Goths, the Scene Kids, the Nerds
We are the weird ones, the Metal Heads
We are the ones who aren't the football or cheer-leading star
We are not the alone
we are not the unloved
We are a family
We are the faithful ones
We are the proud ones
We are the happily different ones
We are The Happily Forgotten
May 27, 2013
May 27, 2013 at 1:47 PM UTC
A million thoughts going through her head.
Like a million fireflies, flickering in and out and flying every which way.
Its like they're trying to get out of this sick little head.
But she won't let them go, they're needed to keep her sick,
to keep her stuck.
They throw themselves against the walls of they're prison, trying to escape.
The girl held fast, and would keep holding.
Fore if she let go of those fireflies the world would have to play they're wicked little games.
So she'll take the knife and plunge it into her soul.
So those wicked little things can never escape.
May 25, 2013
May 25, 2013 at 8:11 PM UTC