A beautiful city
when love remains,
a bunch of terrorist
scared that lovely place.
Innocent people died on November 13th
million of people crying for the lost.
The world is so cruel for this poor souls,
and now that lightly city with beautiful colours,
is now city for pray a lot.
When I see human but i don't see humanity let's stop the war between people.
i still shake & i don't believe what happend on November 13th.
Sadly Paris is now a black place cuz the lights of  Eiffel Tower lost the faith.
Now the city of love is covered with cold… oh sad Paris be strong.
#prayforparis

- d.a

I often fear the idea of being forgotten,
being pushed onto the sidelines, out of sight and out of mind.
I fear that no one will say my name as if it were a song that echoes through my very soul.
And they will not tell the story about how I got the scar on my cheek or the time I nearly drowned in the pool, because I will no longer matter.
I will no longer matter one day- and that scares me.
-o.b

Am I drowning? The void of my soul fills
with water as I dive deeper in order
to escape this calm catastrophe
called "living".

Where do I go next? The city lights I
see through the murky haze, hallucinating
in my final breaths. Seeing the stars of
Atlantis, the long lost beauty.
Seeing the scars of myself, the long lost
calamity.

Was I ever beautiful, or did I
become so skilled in the art of pretending,
my art of hiding, that even the best
critics couldn't find me behind these canvas
walls?

Mermaids bearing blades pierce my canvas heart,
its surface painted by countless sorrows.
Blood swirling around me, closing my eyes
as I die in a painting - the girl who
sank her own city.

When you fight you have to pick a weapon
most just use their hands
tools that are good at building but better at destroying
some choose weapons
something that makes a bang
when you swing you hear the sickening thud as it hits its target
but I have a much more powerful weapon
sharp as any knife
more powerful than any gun
and more silent than death
They say that the most dangerous weapons are held in a holster or a sheath
but I say the most dangerous weapon lies behind your teeth
my weapon of choice is one we are all born with
one we all have, but we don’t even know how to use it
it can **** and destroy
faster than lightning
and hotter than fire
the black tar that drips from our lips with the ability to blot out any light
Words that burn themselves into our skin
a mark that never leaves
because when scars fade and bruises heal those marks are always there
like a bleeding **** that will never go away.

I burnt my scar today
To see if it still peels
The mirror looks away
Through the shed of my blank tears

Through my depression zones
The only thing I've known
No one truly cares
We all die alone

So what have i become
My sweetest friend
Everyone i know, goes away
In the end
And you could have it all
My whole pile of dirt
I will let you down, i will make you hurt



You really don't have anything to fear.



I wear this crown of bones
Upon my scorching skin
Memories of old
Broken days of sin
Beneath the stains of time
The pain still feels
You are someone else
I have disappeared

So what have i become
My sweetest friend
Everyone i know, goes away
In the end
And you could have it all
I don't know what its worth
I will let you down, i will make you hurt

If i could start again
A billion planets away
I would keep myself
I would find my faith

Freezing Moon* by the stereo
and as a bed poet
I'm takin' a ****.

Did you know about that guy
who slit his wrist… on this? she says.
No; Martha, Jessica, Julia: but still…

Here, alone, with the MacBook Air
- or was it Pro? Nevertheless,
an useless tool for worthless ****.

****, Pr0n, Pony - *******.

Here, alone, I and only I writes with the capital I.
And after the **** has gone
it feeds the air with oriental glams of leprosy:

and after a long working day I am not afraid,
watching its face, as I'm flushing it in the toilet
just like all the *******' poetries @ Home-Poetry.

I told you that you gave me scars
And the look upon your face
Was that of deep despair.
Your eyes met mine and I watched
As pain and guilt filled them
I couldn't help but smile.

For scars are what we receive
When damage to our bodies heal
And the pain we felt starts to leave.
I had many open wounds
Across my tattered soul and heart
I could barely manage to breathe.

But you wound your arms lovingly Around my waist and you held
My shattered soul together.
Your kiss upon my once shy cheek
Seeped deeply into my aching chest
As the salve my burnt heart needed.

You gave me angelic scars of which
Are the product of your touch
Weaving together my brokenness.
The scars you gave me
Have made me whole in every way
I love our intricate scars.

-ARI

I have never fallen in love,
at least that's what I allow myself to believe.
I haven't gone mad for anyone or
done the crazy things that I should do if I were in love.

I've never had someone say they loved me.
I've never been fancied by someone I fancied.
I've thought, "He must like me"
I've been happy for weeks knowing he likes me...
I've fallen from the sky knowing how wrong I was.

I've thought he made me believe he loved me.
I'd like to believe he was playing with me,
or even playing me,
But not even that.

How could I have loved anyone then,
when there was no one to love?
No one I should have fallen for.

But why then do they say that I must
have fallen in love at some point of this life of mine?
After not allowing myself to believe I had,
I confronted myself.

Why do I see his face in the children
who merely lift their eyebrows?
Why do I always see that smile of his,
even when we never met up again?
Why do I feel pained and at the same time happy
that he is happy, with someone else?

And then I come to the realization
that I could have loved,
a long time ago
when he sat next to me.
And maybe even I did love.

For he didn't need to do
anything to receive this emotion.
His being was all he needed
for my inexperienced heart to turn towards him,
and not be his... but definitely turn towards him.

And with his ignorance,
or maybe not-so-ignorant self
He scarred my heart with his indifference.
Yet not a scar of hate or heartbreak--
but one of remembrance that won't leave.

So did I ever love?

I really don't know.

Familiar touch turned stranger.
I've been missing you lately, you know.
No I still don't love you...
But I wasn't ready to let you go.

I know that you're no good.
So pathetic you'd actually cheat.
I mean... I feel so awful for her...
We were both just thinking selfishly.

Selfishly... I guess that's it.
You selfishly wanted me then.
I selfishly want you now.
I wanted all your promises.
The friends we could have been...
You even wrote them down...
I carry the note in my wallet.
Broken words written in pen.
I keep it to remind me,
That a kiss will never make me feel that way again.

So wanted.
Your lips.
The focus of my attention.
Even in the photos I keep.
Your touch was the most gentle.
And yet also the most firm.
"How do you do it?"
I often wondered.

"I don't want you to knod your head.
I want you to tell me that you like it."
You taught me to use my voice again,
When for years I tried to fight it.

You showed me your heart
And told me your fears.
We discussed our families.
You let me see your tears.
You asked about my scars...
Why, when, where?
Even the boyfriend of six years...
He never noticed them there.

Maybe that's why I miss you.
Because you're unlike anyone else.
Everyone sees your outside.
But no one knows who you really are.
And now that we are close again,
You couldn't feel more far.

Promises, they're like me.
Always broken, never complete.
Sad because everyone that uses us
Are just about deceit.

But you've taught me too much to hate you.
Well...I guess maybe I love you a little now.
I wish I could keep at least friendship,
But the curtain is slowly closing now.
I try to say my last lines,
But you've already taken the final bow.