Won’t look out the window when she knocks for fear of a Ghost of An Angel.
He made a mistake, so he’s outcasted
But it’s not bad.
Just because something hurts doesn’t mean it’s bad.
Stitches allow you to heal, and until you do you’ll be a Ghost of An Angel.
We’ll be waiting.
The title contains personal meaning, but take it as you will.
julianna 13h
When I feel something,
I just take a stab at it.
Like a 1-2 motion,
To make the most damage
In the least amount of time.
I want to draw blood
And make it last because
I’d rather feel that than nothing.
I think you could call me
A masochist,
Or maybe a sentimentalist.
Whichever you prefer.
Why are we allowed to be at risk?
I’m more likely to die by my own hands than by murder.
We are letting our youth slip away:
Every 16 minutes a light flickers out.
By the end of the year,
We’re down by 800,000
From 15-24 we’re DYING
We are dying.
So let this be a warning to society,
To do something about it now.
I wish that someone was interested enough
In me
To read between the lines and read
To point out where I failed
And places I was strong
To stalk me and examine me
And notice my song
My rhymes
My patterns
And rythyms
And tell me that they notice me, because I
Would never guess that anyone would ever
Notice me
I’m taking about here and now and always. I want someone to care enough to not just see me, but notice me without me having to ask them to.
Sometimes I forget to share
Like I’m suddenly unaware of the line between my life and theirs.
I can appreciate something that’s not mine,
So why can’t they?
I need to remember to share.
Sometimes I get random bouts of jealousy when I see someone enjoying the same things that I do. Almost as if I had “claimed” it - per say. It’s a personality flaw that I’m working through...
I’m creating worlds for fun
Having people’s lives in my hand
Is a luxury some don’t care for
I’m a control freak, if I’m honest
And doing this feels so good
I’m not hurting anyone but the character
But a little bit of me
If a reader comes along,
I’ll be extending a piece myself to them
Writing = Control
My nightcap is communication,
because I crave it all day
I spend hours between four walls
And talking helps me get away.
So I stay up late most of the time,
Chatting my time away
Because after all, I have more time
When tomorrow rolls my way.
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