There is a storm
A storm inside me that never stops
Lightening in my eyes
Thunder inside my heart
And darkness filling my head
But something is wrong
So very wrong
I am weak

They ignore me
Take me as a joke
Storms inside me get angrier
Breaking the docks
Flooding lands
Lightning gets stronger
Thunder gets louder
only to be muffled by silence
I am paralyzed
I am *weak

Sick of being the ugly friend
Sick of being the friend noone cares about
Sick of being the friend that has to try because noone else makes an effort
Sick of trying to help but being taken for granted
Sick of being the friend that always walks on the grass
Sick of being the friend thats last to get invited
Sick of being the friend that gets mad fun of constantly
Sick of being the friend that gets chosen last
Sick of being the friend that gets walked all over

Sick of being
Ignored
Invisable
Talked over
Pushed away
Used

Because I can only take so much
Soon I wont even be your friend at all

But I guess you wouldnt even notice

Red paint dries on a tissue
Slowly
The same rush hue
Glazes imperceptibly
Gently losing shine
And carefully dulls without change
And softly hardens until dry,
When you can touch it without fear
of red fingers, red clothes, red smears
But still, wasted paint on a tissue
Will be thrown away without notice
And still dry red.

A book shouldn't be judged by its cover they said.
A person should be judged on their heart they said.
Plenty of books go unread
They are too small
Too thick
Too old
Too beat up

People and love have the same fate as a book.
Love is hypocritical.
How can an emotion, that is said to be
Judged by the heart,
Consider the optical cortex's opinion.
Before it weighs a soul
Hypocrites.

Predators are lead by their sight as well.
Killing off prey
In blood lust
That is interesting.
Perhaps lust is the issue
Their eyes devour what they want
While the heart is left empty.

If I lose weight am I subscribing to this belief?
Am I not fit enough to be loved?
Would being devoured by predators truly mend my heart?
My windowless soul bleeds.
While their eyes ignore me.
Am I changing myself to be loved, or
Can love change itself to find me?

I am invisible
five days out of seven
I am unseen
with what’s pushed to the back of your brain
but what is seen to keep me alive
is the taste of honey that stays on my lips
after I kiss away my care
of anything that worries
“my pretty little head“

are one annoying person..

but i rather be bothered
rather than ignored

It's been almost a week now, and yet you're still everywhere but where you should be.
How can you love someone and don't give a **** about them?
It's not the first time you leave, you've been gone longer, but there's a chance it may be the last one.
You said you loved me, missed me.
But here I am again, running in circles, all alone.
I can't keep doing the job for two, I can't keep doing the work for you.
I may not understand but at least I've tried.
You just left, oblivious if I cried.
You where right,you weren't playing with my feelings.
For to play with something requires affection to the toy.
Which you don't.
I'm not even that for you.

(two babies
born to perfect parents.)

their eyes light up
when they see her.
they doll her up,
spoil her (but, of course, not too much)
and work hard
only for her.

on weekends,
they play around,
have picnics,
and maybe do some sightseeing.

at home,
the three of them eat dinner
happily,
without a care in the world.
they talk about her studies,
her interests,
her clubs,
and her love.
the father pouts,
not wanting his daughter to be snatched away from him.
the mother laughs,
elbowing the father and encouraging their daughter.

such a happy, little family.

(goodbye.)