She was a sweet straight A student.
She was quite and an intravert.
But she lacked friends.

She wanted to fit in so bad.
And she took extreme measures.

She dyed her hair.
She pored on make up.
She started showing of her ***** and ***.
She shattered her innocence by sleeping with
The first man she could.

She went from a sweet shy girl to a royal *****.

But hey.
At least she's "popular".
At least she has "friends"

She finally done it.
She got everything she "wanted".

We are the "Fighting Tigers".
Sure.
We fight, all right.
But not in the way others think.

We fight with our fists.
An for the stupidest reasons you could think of.
"Oh, *****! You ****** my man! Imma beat ya *** now!"

Seriously?
You're in highschool.
Not MTV.

Here's what they say about tigers,
"tigers are perhaps the most emotional of the big cats. They react to stimulation of any type to a greater degree than do other species"

Says a lot about us.
Such a drama filled school.
Reacting to the littlest things.

Such as a smack on the arm.

We're highschool.
Not Pre-K.

These people make me ashamed to be apart of this school.

Pants sagging below their butts.
Talking like you're in kindergarten.
No wait.
They talk better than you.

Women degrading their bodies.
Having *** before they turn 15.
Dressing so their **** are overflowing from their shirts.
Threatening to bust out of their too small shirts.

Yup, for such an amazing animal,
We act much les than that.

We sure are, "The Fighting Tigers"

A night filled with passion.
Filled with sensual caresses and steamy kisses.

In the aftermath you lie in each others arms.
And as you catch your breath,
Reality sinks in.

You don't want to leave but you know you must.
*****  your feelings, spare her the heartache.
Spare her having to put up with your constant
Absence .

You feel your heart breaking at the thought of leaving.
And in her sleep she fumbles for your waist.
Pulling herself closer to you.

Your resolve crumbles.
And you think,
Just give me this.
Give me her.
One last time.
One last night.

I watch you go about your days.
In pain.
A pain that only I can see.
The pain that you won't let me help with.
Can't you see that I have a shoulder big enough to cry on?
That I want you to open up to me?
That you can trust me with anything?

It kills me knowing you're going through this alone.
It kills me to know that you won't talk about it.

Why can't you,
Just this once,
Trust me enough to
Let me in?

Why do I have to watch you suffer in silence
When I'm willing to share your pain?
When I'm willing to do anything to make you smile again?

The strings are in place.
The stage is set.
The curtains rise,
And you're brought to life by
The PuppetMaster.

All your life you felt as if you've been controlled.
By family.
Friends.
Society.

You've fought the strings that want to hold you down.
Struggled against it's sting as they lash out at your skin.

But in the end,
You have no choice.
You let them tie knots around your ankles and wrists.
You let them do your makeup.
And you follow their every command.

With nothing but a blank look on your face.

Because you're just the one puppet out of millions.

And you must do the bidding of The PuppetMaster.

try your damnest to not show fear.
If you do, they're going to eat you alive.
So you put on a brave face,
Trying to make others believe they don't affect you.
Trying show that you can rise above the torment.

But they see right through it.
They just let you make a fool of yourself.
Silently laughing at your pain.
Your agony.

Your brave face begins to crumble over time.
Leaving a tear stained face.
Leaving you exposed and
Vulnerable.
Why?
Because you didn't have the strength to go on.
Because you're tired of trying.

We dance circles around each other.

Making eye contact every now and then.

Smiling, giggling like 2 year olds.

Making flirty remarks to each other.

We promise.

We try not to fall.

But in the end one of us does.

In our little dance of love.

Usually me.

And you're  never there to catch me.

Like a good partner should.

I hit the floor.

And I hit it hard.

I pick myself up, dust myself off,

and we start the dance the dance over again.

Probably the most misunderstood creatures.
Ever.
Just because we experience horomones,
doesn't mean we act impulsively.

Just because we go through changes,
doesn't mean we all cut.

Just because we date more,
doesn't mean we have *** all the time.

Just because we act nosy,
doesn't mean we ALL gossip.
We're just nosy/curious.

So.

Before you think just because you're older,
that you're better than us,

you were us at one point.

The anticipation leading up to this night.
Where you finally get to be with him.
You pamper.
You wax,
you highlight
every part of your body.
Doing your best to look amazing.
Dress to impress right?
Searching for the perfect outfit.
The perfect accssories to go with it.
And finally,
you are complete.
A spritz of perfume and one last
look in the mirror.
You wait.
Then, the noise you have been waiting for
all day happens.
You open the door,
and there he is.
In all his God-like
glory.
With that half smile you adore.
He takes your hand and leads you to his car...
And drives to the woods.
The doors lock.
You look at him.
He looks back.
In his eyes you see,
danger.
You see no sign of the playful glint that
you fell in love with.
He drives deeper.
Thousands of thoughts race you through your
mind.
Finally, he stops,
he goes to your door grabs you by the hair and
yanks you out.
Drags your thrashing body to a clearing.
You beg.
You plead
for him to spare you.
The man you fell in love with,
Who would've thought he is the one who ends it
for you?
He stops, grabs a rock by your bodies and
the one thing you think before it all goes black,
I Love You.
I Forgive You.
Close your eyes and embrace death.

How many of you serve the world?
You know?
Your friends?
Your REAL friends?
Prioritizing your time by your wants.
Self over family and friends.
Partying over School.

If so, Raise
Your
Hands.

COME ON RAISE YOUR HANDS!

No?
Well how many have lied?
That teeny tiny white lie?
It never hurt anyone.
No big deal!

LIARS!!
If you're not raising your hand,
You're lying.

Want help?
Try to change your ways?
Sorry.
Because I know
That this side has a gravitational pull
Too strong for you to deny.

And no need seekin out the big guy.
He'll just tell you what you don't wanna hear anyways!
Still wanna reach out?

Okay.
Go ahead.
Raise your hands in song!
Praise his "Holy Name"

But you'll be back.
I know it.
YOU know it.

So why try?
You're just gonna keep walkin back and forth between this line.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

Why do you walk the line?
Scared to commit?
What's stopping you?

Oh yeah.

You.
YOU'RE stopping you.

Why?
Because you're so easily distracted.
Swaying from side to side.
Never really committing.
Doing what you believe to be just enough.

So tell me.
If I own this side.

And HE owns THAT side.

Who owns the line you like to walk on so much?

You decide.

everyone "loves" crushes.
they make your heart race.
make you feel alive.
they give you hope that you want be alone.

but here is the thing about crushes,

                 they crush.

they crush your heart.
mind.
soul.
           until theres nothing left to be crushed.

now tell me..

        still "love" your crush?

or
you going to move onto the next,
thinking this time,
won't be like the last?

We all have that one person.
That person we trust.
With gossip.
Crushes.
Secrets.
Our lives.
That one person who we can't live without.
It would be hell living without them.
Going from day to day,
Feeling lost.
Lonely.
But that one person.
Who brightens your day
With just the sound of their voice.
That's the person who we cling to in the dark.
Who we run to for comfort.
Who run to us when they need us.
Who expect us to understand their pain.
Who loves the weirdness that is you.
Accepts it.
Embraces it.
Nurtures it.
And at the end of the day,
Will still be with you.
No matter how long you go without them.
No matter the distance between you.
They will always be yours.
Your Best Friend.
Forever.