Drip, drip, drip.
Her tears hit the ground.
She cries out for help,
But you can't hear a sound.
She looks far and wide
For someone who'll listen.
She opens a drawer, and inside
Sees a glisten.
For the first time in her life,
She felt unafraid,
As she stared at that knife
And the glisten of it's blade.
She found her life's solution
The moment she found that blade.
It could end the persecution
And the hate they all conveyed.
As she stared at her reflection,
Looking back was all the pain.
There was an instant connection
Between the sharpness and her vein.
She pulls in her final breath
Then slowly pushes it out.
The best thing for her is death,
And she knows that without a doubt.
Drip, drip, drip.
Her blood hits the ground.
They'll all start to care
Once the body is found.
Feb 17, 2014
Feb 17, 2014 at 12:04 AM UTC
Demons, demons, all around.
Did you make that creepy sound?
I saw your shadow on the wall,
And I must say that you're quite tall.
You appear to be as dark as coal.
Are you here to steal my soul?
I hate you and you hate me,
So why don't you just go and flee?
Are you why it's so cold in here?
I don't know why you like my fear.
What's the point in causing pain?
I just don't see what all you gain.
If you want me, here I am.
Come and see if I give a ****
Feb 16, 2014
Feb 16, 2014 at 12:03 AM UTC
People are like popcorn.
Some pieces are big, some small.
Some pieces are chosen from the bag first, and some are left behind to be thrown away and forgotten about.
Some pieces pop early, while some take extra time to blossom from their kernels.
Some pieces are seasoned uniquely and are different than others, but some are plain and simply blend in.
Although popcorn comes in many different sizes and shades, we treat it all the same.
That's the only difference between people and popcorn.
Feb 11, 2014
Feb 11, 2014 at 9:47 PM UTC
Today was the day that I was killed.
Once I awoke my fate was sealed.
My murderer just had to ****
'cause he was two months late on his power bill.
He was unemployed and his rent was due,
Which meant my life would soon be through.
He came out of darkness with a knife.
He only wanted money, but he got my life.
He stabbed me in the chest and then he fled.
The police found me later, but I was dead.
He still took my money before he left;
Compared to ****** how bad is theft?
Nothing about him seemed to be kind,
But slowly it was him being killed by his mind.
He pulled out and blade and sliced his vain.
It was the only way possible to end his pain.
He has a paid for roof over his head;
Doesn't really matter now that he's dead.
Aug 16, 2013
Aug 16, 2013 at 1:40 AM UTC