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I thought about it for a while
Before I did it
Because I didn’t know how
I kept glancing at the scissors sitting
On my study table
Thought to get up to grab them
To hold its blade against my bare skin
In my mind I could feel the pain
Of what it would be like
Maybe it was because I was so hurt
And I just wanted to hurt others
The way they hurt me
So I rose from my bed
But I walked out the door
Walked into the bathroom
Opened the cabinet with aspirin
I counted them by fives as I took them
Ten, fifteen, twenty, twenty-five
Was it enough?
I walked back to my room
Slowly with hands still shaking,
And body trembling.
I pushed under the covers
And slowly dozed off to sleep.
The next morning would come
But I wouldn’t wake up
Everyone would yell from my bedroom door
But I wouldn’t move
They’d come to shake my cold body
And realize the difference
Between what I was and
What I am.
The morning sunshine broke
Through my window sill
And I slowly lifted my eyelids
It didn’t work.
Maybe it wasn’t enough
So maybe
I'll just have to try again tonight.
How does it feel
To be the favorite?
Being someone's first thought
Loved even with mistakes

How does it feel
To be chosen?
To hold her
Without being pushed away

How does it feel
To be a person?
To be appreciated
Not regarded as mere imperfections

How does it feel
To be whole again?
Not feeling the dull pain
Caused by absence

How does it feel
To be loved?
Finding the sunlight in the eternal darkness
That I've grown used to

How does it feel
To be happy?
Waking up smiling
And being grateful for tomorrow

How does it feel
To be alive?
Not hollowed out
By the reasons that I thought I lived for

*How does it feel?
I once knew a girl
she was happy and young
until ***** by a stranger's lust

I once thought of a girl
she was scared and frightened
tried to bury the remains of her past

I once thought I knew a girl
But she was damaged at full
never loved or could be loved

I once was that girl
But I hid behind a cover story of
"just a girl".
He's a writer,
He pours his heart on to the page.
The broken pieces make up the lines,
Of pain, love and age.
All the missing pieces?
They fill in the rage
It's a shame his wisdom doesn't shine through
Then he might just write about you

He's a dreamer
He fills the world with his soul
The cup runs over with his secrets and desire
To love, to live, to share
All that he feels he lacks
It torments him so
It's a shame not everyone understands
Or they may just write about him

He's a lover
He doesn't want to fight
He wants to dream and write
Fill the world with happiness and words
Words of love, of laughter
Of poetry
And wherever comes after
It's a shame you can't see
Because his love was lost to me

He's a fighter
Who knows only how to love
He wants to court and woo
Fill a heart with tender dreams
Unseen horizons and happiness
Life complete
And whatever comes after
It's a shame we can't find
The way to ease his gentle mind

He is all of these
And yet he is nothing
Everything
All encompassing
Take a good look into his soul
I'm not sure what YOU will see
But I see a mirror looking inside of me
Deep to the core of my being
It would be a shame if you dont look too
The reflection will show the best part of you

He is part of you
And yet none of you
All your hopes
And your everything
Look deeply within your heart
Tell me what you think you see
For he is every part of you
That you wish to be
Take a long and lasting look
Take out your quill, let's write this book
Well,  Quin said he had writers block.  
I said "Here, I'll help you out, write with me"
This is what we created...  Enjoy! :)

(Pffft, writers block? Yea right!)
A lonely girl
with her vacant stares
screaming in silence
but nobody hears

Her pain goes unnoticed
no one can tell
she smiles like an angel
but she's living through hell

Her eyes brim with maddness
she cuts her own skin
her sad little smile
fades and grows thin

scars on her body
scars on her soul

this hateful world
on her has taken its toll....
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