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"

The river flows endlessly droning on
In its never ending song
Roaring like a train
As I flys with the grain
Rumbling swishing flowing
As one, accepting each drop, growing

The river splashes against the rock
The stationary weight
Pulled down by its heavy burdens
The roaring rivers freight

They are seperate elements
Toghether in the stream
The river a gentle blue gasp of life
A crowd of laughing joy
The rock a heavy grey sorrow
Pushing around the crowd
Cracks from the ages
Of river sweeping around
Now and then harsh or gentle
Waves lap against the rock
Smothing holes or cracking edges
Slowly wearing it down
Yet never joining
For they are seperate elements.

I feel bad for women who date online.
There are good men in this world, I swear.
Not every man who walks the earth wastes his breath and your time,
with cro-magnon scribbles from a mind so bare,
that it comes as a surprise they managed even to write one line,
much less something so cerebral as this:
                              "Yo, prety gurl. Liek yur pic,
                                I so >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
                               Wanna see mah ****?"

So deep, right? What Socratic genius might have penned such lines?
Surely not even Shakespeare or Keats could craft words so divine!
I am so sorry, women who date online.
Truly, I'm sorry, on behalf of mankind

Boys say really sweet things like,
"We will get married some day,"
And "I will love you till the day I die,"
Just so you will spread your legs,
And they can get between your thighs,
When truthfully each tender word,
Is nothing but a clever lie,
Disguised as loving truth,
Sweet enough to make you cry,
So please remember next time he says,
"You make me so happy, I dont know why,"
To just say "thanks" and cross your legs,
Because when he leaves you'll want to die.

I want go to an airport with a whole truck load of lotion, bags of water and scissors all packed in suitcases.


Just to see securities hilarious reaction

HeLLO GentleMEN I am your creator.

BRANDON?!

Yes Orion it is me BAcK From the GRAVE you sent me to in middle school.
so now I've come to sell my vengeance so without further ado I've come to **** you

A lengthy battle raged for hours on end,
until finally, after more than 5 years, OrionThaReject, a persona I created years ago was finally dead and gone,

Now he's merged himself with me, NeroameeAlucard,
because he learned that just because he was a reject at one point,
doesn't mean you have to be one for life.

Okay Nero let me handle the narration and begin the Explanation,
see in middle school I was transferred out of my home town into an entirely indifferent area obviously I was off guard and it hurt me to the heart that people I had known for most of my then young life I'd never see again I had no friends so I developed the persona of a reject to own up to my outcast status

you're ruining me

but I don't BELIEVE in purple bus drivers!!!! :0

To some she is a shining light
A flash of hope amongst the dark
An optimistic helping hand
To pull you from the dark
And cheer your sorrow

To some she is a black hole
Pulling the world down with sadness
Reliving the past that broke her
And stabbing others with the shards

To some she is simple words
plastered on a white canvas painting a picture.
never more
but never less

To most she is unnoticeable
A tiny footnote scribbled in the corner of a forgotten notebook
A wall flower whose thorns push away all but those with the key to her locked heart.

When you ask me what she is
The answer is impossible
Because I don't know

But I can tell you what she's not

She is not a beautiful face, to stop you in a crowd

She is not a chatting girl to talk you into a date

She is not a innocent flower
Welcoming with open arms

She is not a genius to create the next invention

She is not a musician, an author, a designer, a star, a doctor, or a hero

She is not a loving companion for you to hold, and remember your every need

She is not a great friend, always there in a flash.

She is not a friendly person, starting up the conversation

She is not a good cook, making meals that are edible

She is not an unscarred girl, unscathed by the past

She is not a beautiful figure
That draws your eyes

She is not hilariously funny
Ready for stand up comedy

She is not someone to remember though she will remember you

However she is not fazed by judges
Changing ways to suit them

She is not perfect

She is not stopped by her imperfections, only pressed farther to become something more.

And though I can not say who she is or what she will be. Here's what I can say

To me she will always be the girl staring back in the mirror.