If you get this email or message please turn the other cheek.
It's a ******* scam and who ever the ******* are, your ****'s on blast bud.
You are all over the internet so I suggest you stop being such a ******* Duchebag and get a life.
We here on HP are here to express and live because we have no other way or simply because we love writing.

So stop being a ******* ***** and get a ******* life bro!

Why do the most truthfully heartfelt
statements begin with, "I know it's silly, but..."

No. Stomach your apologies so that
the rest of you won't remain
undiscovered. You're a map made of
resignation
with feelings about yourself more
tangled than yarn woven in and around
all your bones.

I want to make brutal honesty the new
fad. Have everyone fall in love with boldness
in words
so that it becomes
therapeutic to hand out paper keys during
conversations
to unlock someone's heart.

Scream out at the top of your lungs,
I WAS A FAKER TILL NOW
and smile
because you know you've never spoken
truer words
and because
nobody knows it.

Honesty has now become your
secret, and it will be the lightest
load you've ever had to bare.

Looking
back
at it,

you were the ******* crazy one.

These road signs point to where you’d be
if you weren’t kneeled over in constant apology
you tell me sometimes you can hear
Aidan’s laughter at night,
as if someone’s strung them around
street lamps like fairy lights
your lungs collapse at the mention of his name
and your chest heaves with trembling shame
but you never told anyone else about the way
guilt straddles your shoulders every morning
as it leans towards his mother’s ears screaming
ears now turned deaf with grief

You tell me about the nights so dark
you can’t tell it apart from the hollow in your chest
most days you find it too hard to breathe
because the guilt hugs you so tight
it forces itself in your lungs
where these organs can’t contain
your feeling of sin
so you keel over and ***** by the road
where you last held Aidan

There are footprints in the mud
where he was last standing
but the imprints have hardened and Aidan has grown since
there was a much colder instance
when his sister flung a picture frame at you
so it shattered and you picked up a shard
to scratch out unforgivings in the mud by the road
where you watched your best friend die

Kidnapped by fears
my face wrapped in plastic
I can't breath
Teeth slicing flesh away
Pain tingles my whole body
Blood trickles

It's not mine
The dark rouge belongs to another
Throwing up adrenaline...

Just smear me in gold
Not crimson.
And Finally....
                               This will make myself **Known

I built a blue glass from
the sand
and drank
the ocean dry.