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Ember Evanescent Feb 2015
Women are angels
If someone breaks our wings
We will simply continue to fly...
on a broomstick.
We're flexible like that.
:)
  Feb 2015 Ember Evanescent
Landslide
If he calls you pretty
Cut him off
You are far too exquisite for degrading words such as those
If he says he is different
Do not return his call
Those words light a flame of false hope that burns down every wall you've built up
If he does not try to understand
Slam the door in his face
You have no need for a coward
Ember Evanescent Feb 2015
I’d like to write a love poem.
For tea has ceased to give me joy.
And in the past, one of the only things that has,
Has been feelings for a boy.
I know that sounds pathetic,
Like Disney commercials have seized my mind,
But sometimes focussing on something lovely as opposed to my own self-loathing,
Is the only relief I can find.
I’d like to write a love poem
And yet I know I cannot.
For the boy who sees me as nothing but a game,
Is the only one my heart has got.
I’d like to write a love poem
For someone other than him
Whose head is filled with textured thoughts,
And heart is filled with kindness, to the rim
I’d like to write a love poem
Telling of how I adore
His endless eyes, his glistening soul
But his rough edges even more.
I’d like to write a love poem,
But the more I think it through
I realize that I’ll never have anyone
To address my love poem to
I don't know, I just keep writing these stories where my characters have some sort of love life and I just wish that I could have a REAL love life, not one made out of paper and make-believe, because when I have some form of a romantic aspect in my life, my Broken Moods are ALOT more scarce, and I just... really, hate feeling so alone. I'm sorry for being so pathetic and co-dependant, and stereotypical, and annoying, and worthless. Sorry for being so attention-seekingly self-deprecating, by the way. I'm not trying to be this selfish and vain and ungrateful. I'm sorry.
There are days
When I look at the week before me
And only see the list of things
To be completed and checked of
No joy, simply a methodical process
I call life
But I had an exam this week
For dance not school
A change in the schedule
Stressful, yes
But also an accomplishment greater than my average week
And as I came out of the exam
I remembered why I put myself through hours of rehearsal each week
Because when I perform
I am alive
I am full of an energy
High on the sense of pride and self-esteem I don't feel any other time
Feeling like, for a moment, I can do anything
It doesn't last all that long
But that's is okay
Because now I've remembered
And I won't forget again
Should have wrote this a few days ago, but meh. It's not totally coherent but repost if you can understand it and relate to it in someway.
Ember Evanescent Feb 2015
I never really thought I’d see you again, to be honest.

I feel a little underdressed for the occasion.

There you are, wearing the same Hypocrisy you have worn for years and have seriously outgrown, but you wear it still.

Then here I am, in nothing but a worn out grudge, but hey, I tried to dress it up a little with some bitterness.

I think you and I were a little too similar, actually. Maybe that’s why we fell apart, because we were just too alike. That’s one of my scarier thoughts, but definitely not the scariest.

It isn’t an impossible theory, I guess. Though I think maybe it was more like we were two different sides of the same coin, but even if that’s true, we were a coin spinning out of control, cast off, and tossed, but not away, we were tossed into a wishing well, in the hopes that maybe the water could wash away the damage. I look through the waters we wished on every day, wondering if I’ll see you through the distorted, but transparent fluid that runs through our veins like poison because even if the ink of our promises that we wrote out on flesh, as  a binding contract found its way into those dark waters of our wishing well, even it could not be as toxic as that deadly liquid we doused our loyalty in, because it was made out of wishes, and though water shouldn’t be considered equivalent to venom, never underestimate just how lethal it is, because nothing is more poisonous than something that appears pure, but is just the opposite, and truthfully, that is all you proved yourself to be.

I look through those poisoned waters made of liquid wishes and tears, but I never see you there.

Your black eyeliner was quite a change from last time I saw you, because the last year, all you did was line your eyes with Pride and Pettiness, well I’ll watch you fade off into the shadows until you become one because I don’t care anymore.

I’ll raise my hand and spread my fingers to bid you farewell so I don’t need to speak because I can’t, I’m busy choking on fire, and the smoke is leaving its trail so that if you ever want to find me, you will just need to follow the trail of ashes so that I may slam the door in your face, facing up to the fact that sometimes, even if you don’t let it go, you can stop getting involved with the burden of the past, because it’s been passed on far too many generations of different versions of myself each year.

I’m starting a new chapter, and you just don’t deserve a role in it, so when I spread those fingers, maybe the cobwebs I couldn’t bring myself to sweep away will finally blow away in the wind. The wind that is nothing but a draft coming in through the door you left open when you left just to linger in my doorway for months, well I hope I slammed your fingers in the doorframe when I finally shut it on you. You’re still waiting in the window though, naturally.

Well, my Pain and yours are a couple shades off, and I’m sort of sick of matching you anyway, so I’ll draw the curtains too, because that’s the only way to let in natural light, when the artificial lamps are outside and the candles and burning suns are indoors, away from you, after all, how could anything bright exist near someone who exudes so much forced darkness such as you?

Well, I don’t match you anymore, and thank God for that, because I certainly would look even worse than you already do dressed in that color of Hypocrisy, and just keep in mind, even though I’m wearing these grudges trimmed with bitterness, and even though that might be a pretty unflattering look for someone like me, whose very skin is woven out of Broken shards, it’s only an accessory to remind me not to forget. I wear Memories, even though you gave them to me, even though we made the together, I still like them so sure I’ll wear them, but that doesn’t really matter, because with the burdens on my wrist, I can still wear Hope.

And you never, ever will.

So maybe I’m not underdressed for this little occasion, I’m just wearing something a little out of fashion, but Hope is comfy, and I like it so that’s fine by me.
so yeah...
This is about a Broken Frienship FYI
Ember Evanescent Feb 2015
If I walked by you on the street, and we locked eyes for a spit second, would you  even say hey? Would you call my name? Or would we awkwardly look at the ground and walk on opposite sides of the road, pretending not to notice each other?
ah, well, I'm worth nothing to you. I suspect you would ignore me. Or you'd be drunk and high and wouldn't even notice me
Where do you go
When your house
Is no longer a home
When you no longer feel safe in your bed
Because you can hear their words
And your cheerleaders
Are the ones holding you back

Where to you turn
When you supposedly greatest supporters
Become your greatest critics
When the gossiping girls in the bathroom
Have insults
That seem like elementary insults
Compared to the things you hear at home

When do you decide
Enough is enough
When they are to afraid to repeat their words
To your face
When you can't tell them things
For fear they will use it against you

When do you decide it is time to spread your wings
And leave the nest that has become a death trap
It doesn't matter if I can or cannot fly
I would gladly plummet downwards
As long as I escaped

When do you finally stop denying
What once were your parents
Are now simply your
"Legal Guardians"
This probably seems shallow and I understand it is a total FWP but I am sick and tired of my sister "reporting" back to me about things they said about me while I was gone. And that my parents keep telling me what is important and to stop writing, which is one of the only reasons I keep breathing and the one thing I know I will do after I graduate. I am really sorry for wasting your time in reading this.
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