You open your mouth
And sputter your poison
Dissolving into others' ears
Climbing it's way up
Up into their brains
Just like a tumor
I hear the rumors
That resurface too often
And explain the truth
Denial, they tell me,
Just proves it's true
What do they know?
My mind is mine
My thoughts are mine
And I like to
Keep them that way
But you reach in
And grab the truth
Then spin it with
Your snake tongue into
Your weaponous poisonous acid
Contaminating other peoples minds
You're supposed to be
A friend of mine
Until you join in
Why won't you stand
Stand up for me
Set it all straight
Because I can't deny
Or it's considered true

Every once in a while
Tears slip
Sometimes small and quick
Other times full and flooding
The longer they're held in
The harder they fall

Every once in a while
Words are screamed
Smetimes meaningless
Other times full of rage
They longer they're held in
The louder they are

Every once in a while
You fight back
Sometimes never touching
Other times you destroy everything
The longer it's held in
The tougher they strike

A  beautiful  suicide  kit.

Life is something we all share, Just like oxygen, in the air. The way we live it, is up to us, With a negative or with a plus.

Life is something, we should cherish, We never know, when we'll perish. Live each and every single day, Smell the flowers, stop and play.

Life is something, we've been blessed, Choice is yours, choose your quest. Follow your passions, and you'll be fine, With the right attitude, you will shine.

Green dances like waves around her wide pupils, eyes lashes like curved feathers graze the top of her eyelid.

Flaming orange spirals from her beautiful mind down to the end of her back.

A canvas
Her face resembled as the flecks of freckles formed a gorgeous piece art.

Her body was as though it was sculptured carefully to put on display in greek goddess section of the museum

Sadly it wasn't
Instead her body was forcefully abused and harmed as it wasn't societys shallow idea of beauty

She wasn't tan
She wasn't blonde or brunette
Just a pale ginger.

She considered herself to be hideous

She became weak
Vunerable
Easy

It wasn't her fault
She needed the money
She lacked self esteem
And so selling her body gave her the worth and attention she never had.

Beaten
Hurt
*****

Her life was gone
The green waves in her eyes stop dancing
The lashes were now harsh lumps of dried mascara
Her beautiful hair was bleached blonde, frayed and cut.

And her body was now just another puppet to an old mans torture.