This girl is on fire
She sees the world differently
She has a different sort of determination in her eyes
She cannot understand how other girls just sit there and wait for Prince Charming to come along

This girl is on fire
She wants nothing more than to protect her family
She never cries, or shows any weaknesses or vulnerability
She doesn't have everything in life, but wants to make the most of it

This girl is on fire
She doesn't believe in love or fairytales
Perhaps that is the reason she reads about them
Maybe she is just waiting for someone to prove her wrong
She sure hopes not

This girl is on fire
She is the girl that everyone wants to be but no one wants to approach
She is the girl who sees herself as a waste of space
Everyone knows her, but nobody takes the time to see past the mask she puts on

This girl is one fire
She has been burnt by flames before
But what can she expect?
You can't play with fire and not get burnt.

Fire
Sizzling and hot
A burning sensation to the skin
Leaving ashen faces and scarred bodies

First, it starts off as nothing more than a spark
Then, as it grows larger, fire will catch, and this is when the real fun will begin
Later, as if being an inferno is not enough, something will add fuel to the fire, causing it to be uncontrollable
A blazing flame will arise, making everything around it to go into peril

The fire will destroy everything that comes in its way, having no mercy
Once all the burning has done, the few remaining survivors will crawl out cautiously, as if they are ready to bolt at any second
Struck faces and burned bodies will be forced to get right in and work right away
Yes, fire is an unforgiving thing.

He hits me.
His own daughter.
Can't he see what this is doing to me?
Can't he see the bruises that he leaves?

The kids at school have started to ask questions.
I hate to think what would happen if they found out.
I don't want their pity.
I just want my father to stop.

He is always mad at me for something.
Like last night, for example.
I made him spaghetti instead of roast like he wanted.
So, what do I get? A beating. And he ATE the food anyway. Didn't give me a single bite.

I'm hungry.
I haven't had anything to eat in about 36 hours.
Why doesn't my father like me?
Did I do something wrong? I hope not.

He wasn't always like this.
It started years ago, when I was 9.
Right after my mother had killed herself.
I had found her, sitting on the bathroom floor with empty pill bottles spread out around her.

I ran to his work, telling him the news.
He took me home, sat me down. I thought he was going to comfort me. I was wrong.
He hit me. Just like that.
I've cried every night since. Silently, though. I don't want to give him the pleasure of knowing he hurt me.

I get good grades, have a good singing voice.
I am School Captain, have a pretty face.
I am good at the arts, excel in sports.
I am the luckiest girl in the world, right? Wrong. Couldn't be more wrong.

School ends.
I run home.
I write a note to my father:
'Goodbye. Mum wanted to get away from you, now I am too. And the only thing I regret is not doing it sooner.'

I lock myself in the bathroom.
No, I will not **** myself with pills.
I am not my mother.
I did not marry that sick man.

No, I will defy him in the best way possible.
I run out of the bathroom.
Grab a length of rope from the back shed.
Try and prepare for what comes next.

I still remember how to make a hangman's noose.
And there I go.
I hang myself.
Right above the front door. Where he will see what he made of his little girl.



The man weeps. He knew it was wrong.
He would have stopped if he knew it was this bad.
He hates himself, but he must go on with life - and make it a good one. He will show his darling daughter that he can be a good person.
He sits on the ground, thinking of what he made of his little girl...

Every scar tells a story
They are not an ugly mark
No, instead they are a bravery mark
Proof that you will sacrifice everything to do what needs to be done.

You don't have disgusting scars all over your body
You have stories all over your body
And one day, someone will come along willing to listen to your stories
But until then, you must go on and look over the staring faces - and make your mark.

I have learned that scars are possibly the most beautiful things that have come along with pain
I am now no longer embarrassed of my scars
Instead I stand tall and show people that I am here
Scars are beautiful.

My world is crumbling, falling apart life is meaningless and that's just the start,
Only because he broke my heart,
He used to be my everything,
But now he is my nothing,
How could he do this to me?
He just threw my heart into the sea,
Left me alone with no-one to love,
Just me and my turtle dove,
He was a cheater,
And to think I loved Peter,
Now I am very suicidal because of what he did,
But he didn't care he just ran away and hid,
My wrists are covered in scars,
And I have started smoking cigars,
My parents are very worried,
Now I'm starting to get bullied,
No-one knows what to do,
Not even my best friend Andrew,
I have tried suicide many times before,
But I don't think my parents would be very happy to see a corps hanging in the bathroom when they open the door,
My parents are afraid that I will do it for real sometime soon,
Only because of those goons,
I just wish they would stop.

We have so many coincedences-
its like we are on lifes meant to be list,
i lost a friend he lost friends,
instant attraction love at first sight,
my broken phone his missing phone,
we both encounter hand enjurys;
we care for eachother
like eachother; 2 weeks deep
and I am obsessed; more or less
mindover matter
his car breaks down,
next night my car breaks down,
run in with our exes and our dads
what are the odds?
we are strong and together,
we can handle anything this world throws at us
together as a team
pinch me, this feels like a dream

The voodoo doll sits there on the window sill,
I named him Bill,
Bill sits there all day and all night,
And when I come in at night he gives me a fright,
It looks like he has an evil grin on his face,
Sometimes he can be a disgrace.

He can be a disgrace doing all sorts of things,
Sometimes he steals my rings,
I don’t know how he does it,
But he will never admit,
What he does to us,
He puts us in a lot of stress.

There is something about Bill that you should know,
He is very handy with arrows and a bow,
He is very special in his own little way,
He likes to make little people out of clay,
He is no ordinary voodoo doll,
Paulina is his best friend they both love running into a wall,
This may seem very odd,
And when I tell them off for doing this they just stand there and nod.

This is the story of my voodoo doll,
Whenever he gets tired he likes to loll,
So next time you come across him,
Remember to give him a sim dim.
This way he will be very happy.
And forever make you his close enough pappy.

Love is not needed.
Makes you weak and vulnerable.
We're wasting our time.

Wait a second,
am I dead?
Nope.
I'm just stuck in a hospital bed.
What???
Why am I in a hospital?
Oh yeah, I remember.
I fell.
Hard.
And gave myself a concussion.
How did I fall?
I wish I could remember.
Do I even want to remember?
Wait a second,
am I dreaming?
Cause there's too many things I can't recall.
Nope.
The IV line running into my veins feels too real.
In fact,
it's probably pumping me full of painkillers.
Which might be why I feel like I'm dreaming.
Or am I dreaming?
Wait a second,
am I dead?

9/17/12