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Love-evans Apr 2015
Seeds Of light spilled out when they wished to torment the clouds;
Your farewell sooth's me, like a smooth stone leaving its prayer on my fingertips.
Memories whispered somewhere behind the shadows of the moon;
Covered in satin cloths, Bare bones, cold, lying on the floor of an abandoned house.
Falling pointless falling.
I was the house.
Left neglected and unneeded,
Bathtubs, and cigarettes.
Endless misery.
My soul spidering up a thread dampened in the rain; someday.
Once, twice, three times, gone.
Towards emptiness is where I drifted, where what seemed real dissolved in time.
Where we abandoned fake smiles and white walls, for I'm fine and therapy;
Traded warm walls and late night phone calls for Hospital beds, and Medication.
You get used to it, Tubes down you esophagus.
Misery.
That’s all we know; they say I’m crazy.
But when white walls and hospital beds is all that you know, you begin to believe it.
Endless Misery, That’s where you lead me.
Held my hand and turned Rose pedal and kisses into fits of anxiety and bruises.
My knees are bruised now,
And when you've fallen all things hurt.
Then suddenly nothing.
The world doesn’t stop spinning just because you need a break.
Fake smiles, when you've forgotten what happiness feels like, that is all you allow people to see.
But to no avail misery is all that you feel, and all the world will ever allow you to know.
Blank spaces and hallways leading nowhere, someday.
But it seems as though I've forgotten what comfort feels like.
When the world gives you someone that makes you feel special and that is taken away,
It’s like saying "Oops this gift is for someone else".
I cling to what is given to me, because I know to love no other way.
Something about tomorrow seems to torment my soul;
Yet the idea of waking up to someone there makes it okay to hate myself.
I've fallen for a gift that was never mine to hold onto.
Towards emptiness is where I followed you;
Where it seemed okay to be empty because I find comfort in what I know.
Suddenly I've fallen, and have managed to let every piece of me break.
Shattered like fine china.
My knees are bruised now; and I tell myself that being hurt is okay because...
Because...
Because...
NO.
It's not okay but it has become something I've learned to accept.
Falling, Sinking, Drowning beneath all the sorrow I attempt to contain.
That is all I seem to do.
Because: A word used to introduce a phrase or clause expressing and explanation or reason.
You left me with not a single “because”. Now I am shattered glass.
Unfixable, But I manage to pretend.
Walking around with a smile when in reality I want to burst into a puddle.
Yet no one seems to understand,
Because I am only seventeen and it is somehow unfathomable to see that I could have been in love.
"Because" is all I asked for
"Accept that I won’t tell you" is all that you left me.
Love-evans Apr 2015
My entire life has felt like suffocating. The idea of standing in front of people has only caused mental breakdowns and tears.
Suffocating- Something I've began to find comforting. When asphyxia sinks in, closing myself off, and escaping is the only thing that makes it okay.
Screaming, kicking and self inflicted bruises. I want to be numb, but drugs is not an option, and the idea of drowning my sorrows in alcohol terrifies me.
It is times like these when I need someone most. When there is something I can't control, words become harder to find. When everyone seems to take a little longer to talk to me, mentally I begin to drown.
A daily battle found within the screaming confines of my mind.; A pressing weight pounding against my lungs, causing my massive inability to breath.
I am about to explode, Like a ticking time bomb of discomfort and suppressed adrenaline.
Not any more.
Love-evans Nov 2016
Bring your own juice.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
How is someone supposed to put into
words that they feel/ have been made (self)-aware(somehow) there personality adapts (naturally)?
to the people they are around and even beginning
to mimic the interacting persons emotions and personality traits
to create a, sociable personality.
because depression has taken a dramatic toll on their personality and they know longer know how to
Be there own person:
I often forget about the things i actually enjoy doing
because I'm not surrounded by people that enjoy doing the same things.
I love to write
I love to read
I like to play the guitar
I like to create art
and
I love making people happy!
So what could possibly be wrong?
Why do I loose my sense of self when I'm with others?
I don't know what this is supposed to be about but my hands had a lot to say.
Love-evans Apr 2015
Loneliness seems to be decorated like a gift.
Covered by the whispers of people and carved by their oh so curious eyes.
If only it were as simple as being alone in a room for more than 10 seconds.
I've never been able to completely grasp onto the meaning of the word "Lonely".
Yet the silence of the world has caused my lungs to fill with the drowning sensation I have so carefully attempted to avoid.
Some people call it "daddy issues"; My constant need for comfort and companionship all derived from my "daddy" walking out on me as a child.
I refuse to believe it is that simple. The choking caused by my inability to swim while being dragged down by a cinder block is simply a sensation; I have this "adrenaline ***** vibe"  about me they said. It is only a useless attempt at filling the void you've created.
Loneliness... It falls between Falling in and out of love, deciding on if you want or need someone there to comfort you. Loneliness, it occurs in any in-between moment of silence. This never ending abyss of a word has been pulling me in, as if the twinkle in my eye that came with "Oh look she has your eyes Albert!" Never existed.
I refuse to believe that this entire time all the bad things that went wrong with me along the way were just a domino affect of you walking out.
If I could go back ten years from a week before my seventeenth birthday I would tell six year old me not to invite that man to her birthday because he will simply disappoint her.
$100.00 isn't love, it is passing by with the least amount of effort.
Love-evans Jun 2015
I'm beginning to wonder if the sensation in my fingers will ever return.
maybe its like writers block.
perhaps only temporary...
but some people can have writers block for years, maybe even a lifetime.

Bilateral broken wrists.
What the **** does that mean?
Day 1:
I woke up in the hospital, my only concern was my precious forty dollar jeans.
"Aaliyah your back is broken."
Day 3:
Post surgery, heavily anesthetized
"Mom I want to be on American Idol."
*starts to sing in the recovery room"
Day 12:
I woke up and couldn't feel my right arm
Oh right they numbed my radial nerve!
It only lasts a few hours the said
Day 13:
My arm was still numb.

Lets, not fail to  mention that I also have my t12 removed and replace somewhere in the middle of all this.
I have several fractures in my lumbar.

Day 14:
I finally went home.

Four weeks later.
I cant feel my fingers.
Actual events.
Love-evans Jul 2015
I am done trying to satisfy you and it feels so good to get you off my back.
I tried to cary you for three years occasionally dropping you to see if you'd react but you were clinging on to me for dear life and while trying to save yourself you were drowning me along the way.
I used to believe that I was comfortable drowning and that it became apart of my human nature that we all ocassionally felt helpless and incapable of standing on our own two feet but the entire time it was you making me feel like I needed a life vest although I already knew how to swim.
Even when the time came to let you go for good to fend for yourself against the waves you still tried to save yourself and tried dragging me down further but I finally held my breath and untied the block you tied to my ankles. Im not gonna lie I did this to you too but I let you think you were free then got scared because you made me feel like I was sinking without you.
But I finally solved the puzzle to my happiness and it doesnt involve you.
thanks for wasting three years of my time.
Love-evans May 2018
Rental down payments-
Moving van-
Rental debt:
  N-
  L-
Debt to parents: 25,000
Mac-external hardrive
iPad -accessory  
iphone-
     Oloclip-Lense
     Selfie light -phone case
     Selfie stick
     Heavy duty case
Mattress/ Boxspring/ Frame
Cat stuff
Dresser
Lights (Plants/ Photography)
Sound proofing
Microphones
Headset-beats
Garageband
Mic ****
Photography camera
Lenses
Vlog camera
Sewing machine
Patterns
Cactus
Backdrops/green screen
Love-evans May 2015
Red, When I get so High that My eyes **** at producing water.
Orange, The fruit I am most picky about but can't eat at school cause this one girl might dye.
Yellow, What the **** sun. stop being so bright cause I'm literally trying to be a vampire and you're not helping besides the fact the you blind me.
Green, I dyed my eye brows green for no apparent reason Other than the one word know as Impulse.
Blue. Why can't grass be blue? I have allergies to grass So I will never truly be able to enjoy laying in grass with out feeling like I'm dying.
Purple, Used to be my favorite color in Middle school Not that I didn't change it every 5 seconds.
Can I go somewhere really far away and be alone all the time?
I really don't like socializing but I like to listen to really emo Indie music and do hipster grunge things.
Wow I cant seem to focus on one thought. Kay thanks for Reading my trash.
AG
11:43am
Love-evans May 2015
My thoughts have become more convoluted then they used to be.
Broken, tossed over, and raw is how you left me.
Open like a flesh wound, spilling with ideas.
Suddenly I've began to forget what I was doing on this site.
Now I can't seem to get my thoughts out in an organized manner.
You're convoluted and ****.
A mystery machine that can't sleep for more than 10 minutes
It's 11:24 in the morning and haven't slept for 24 hours
because thoughts of you keep grazing through my mind.
I wore your shirt today.
I cuddle your teddy bear last night.
am I losing it?
I think I've already managed to lose my mind.
My eye brows are green.
Not for any reason, and not that this information pertains to any real relevance but I have managed to not be able to process anything realistically due to the lack of sleep your caused me.
Trash.
My hair falls tangled over my shoulders.
Eyes sinking into my skull.
I look like I'm dead.
My mania is gone and I'm Drowning again.
This is **** and I'm sorry For wasting another link on this site with my ****** writing.
AG
11:31am
Love-evans Apr 2015
Forming words to say what no one ever thought you would.
Spoken word gives people a chance to ride the waves of the syllables that roll off your tongue, to be engulfed into an ocean of self expression.
Spoken word is a story. A story that no one would have even believed if it was never conveyed in such a way the evoked so much emotion.
Spoken word is the ability to reach out to people on a different parallel.
when you open up its spread light, it allows people see an entire world that they never knew existed.
When you become transparent and turn all of your if’s, and's, and buts into something great you show people what they need to see, not what you want them to see.
And the words that so gracefully roll of your tongue become all of the things that they have never wanted to admit, Being vague has never allowed so much emotion and desire to aroused all at once.
Spoken word is an art that is within everyone's grasp, but only few have ever taken the advantage to capture it.
you can’t exactly see what is but when
you stretch your hands to reach for the creativity that wants to swallow you, The world that you once knew changes.
All of your thoughts become poetic, and there becomes a consistent need to tell people what's going on and it feels so amazing.
Spoken word is an expression
abling people that would have never thought they would have the power to say things about their lives unleashes a magnificent world that we would have never been able to see.
Spoken word is an art the doesn't just open eyes but shocks all of our senses. The ability to take someone on a journey without even having to leave the room, Making them experience your story in a way that you never thought you could.
Spoken word is not just poetry,
Spoken word describes all that I am,
All that I can, and will be,
All that I was,
All that is me.

— The End —