She met a boy
And she's in love
Her mother disapproves

Her mother says he's trouble
But she adores this boy
He's someone she'll never lose

Forbidden to see him
She meets him in secret
Every single night

He calls her many
pretty things
They keep their affair out of sight

The boy she loves
Has killed a man
Police are on his trail

She has a choice
To hide her love
Or watch him rot In jail

In the dead of the night
She leads him to the house
Through the creeky back door

Gun still in his hand
The pair tiptoe
Across the kitchen floor

Her mother finding out
About this situation
Is among her highest fears

They sneak up
to her bedroom
And she bursts into tears

What have you done?
She cries to him
He shoves her onto the ground

Tells her to shut up
Curses at her
Warns her not to make a sound

There's a pounding on
The door they came in
She follows him down continuing to cry

The stranger he owes
Stalked him here
And tells him to pay or die

Her lover's gun fires
The stranger falls
****** and still as a rock

They turn to see her mother
Who heard voices and came down
Her eyes filled with horror and shock

Without even flinching
Her lover aims his weapon
And says she's seen to much

Her mother's screams
Echo off the walls
She's bleeding and cold to the touch

Sobbing at her dying mother's side
He shoots her too
Saying I'm sorry it had to end this way

Then leaving them both
To die alone
Her "lover" runs away

Father comes down to his ****** family
She whispers Sorry daddy
He calls 911 and they all wait

But by time they arrive
Just like her apology
It simply is too late

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What's it like to be liked?
To be the one who causes that jolt
In the chest of the one who sees them and likes them?
What's it like to be liked by someone who doesn't just like you because they found out you liked them and they wanted a girlfriend?
Because I have liked so, so many boys
Felt that rush if adrenaline when they walk by
Gotten nervous when they speak to me or meet my gaze
But I have never
Ever
Been on the other side of that
Never even been asked to dance more than one time
And it has been nearly two years since then
And he was basically ordered to ask me to dance
I don't dance
But what I'd give to be asked...
What I'd give to be liked...
What's it like to be liked?

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READ EVERY THIRD WORD

Absolutely undoubtedly,  I really truly can't express my hate for despicable him. The memories though, were unforgettable, I won't even try.

(I sincerely mean both sentences within this thought st the same time.)

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I can feel the rough surface of your goodbyes
Little monsters who bite at my flesh
They scar me and cut me and snag the little parts of me you loosened and I nearly let come undone
But at least I get to keep a little reminder of you
Even if it is a wound
A little something left of you to cling to
I can taste the bitterness of your unsweetened words
Their sour expressions like acid on my tongue
As they collide with mine, yours spilling from your lips, mine from mine,
and though you said you wished it and dreamed it, our lips, they never touched
Words words born of ink or vocal chords
Both vicious weapons and a divine form of healing
I can hear your silence
It whispers softly to me
It’s cold and sounds like the quiet night air when you are alone
And make a wish on a star even though you don’t believe for a second it could come true
I inhale the scent of your regrets
They haunt you and plague you like disease, ghosts and demons they stalk you in various states or consciousness
And their drifting aroma reminds me of the final day of autumn before the very first snowfall
I can see your mean streak
It cackles maliciously
Your shards of cruelty
They are silver and glint in the candlelight like blades
There is one intangible thing of yours that I can perceive in you that I really wish I couldn’t
I can’t taste it, or feel it by touch, sight, scent or sound.
It is not quite an idea
Nor a thought
Nor a concept or a fleeting feeling or emotion
But whatever it is It is swirling around your aura
Rising from your mind like steam from the fragile surface of a cup of Irish tea
And it stings so badly
Because whatever it is
I can sense it somehow with my soul
I can sense you not Missing me.
Not one little bit.

Defensiveness the color of fear and the shape of loneliness is the poison that flows within the veins of Rejection and Inadequacy.

Glass is essentially perfect
Clear and easy to see through
Nothing hidden inside
No fractures
smooth
shining
flawless
used to hold treasures in museums
like priceless artifacts
the crown jewels
practically perfect
You could be like glass
Perfect
but keep in mind
glass is just waiting to shatter
and you can't ever fix it
once it has been broken

To Ember,
Have you noticed you're far too often someone's "Once"?
Far too often you make it into their "Remember Whens"
While you're there you burn brightly
But you burn bright until you burn out
And then all you are is a memory
A faded recollection
Just a blurry piece of the past
Like a bubble
Shimmering and floating high
Everything seems beautiful
But once it pops
That's it.
The End.
Ember, quit being so disposable.
So easily forgotten
Quit
F
A
   L
     L
      I
       N
        G
And F   A   d   i   n   g...

So quickly.

When will you stop being just a memory?

From Ember


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