was it worth it?
to feel something? just for ten ******* minutes,
to feel something?

i can't look at you, Conchúr,
you repulse me.
every crocodile tear and shark-*******-smile,
with your smug little laugh,
and your meaningless words -

you weave them together,
constructing vast fantasies and empty promises -
how many people have you trapped,
in your wide and selfish net?

oh! but you've always been so good with words.
and may that be the death of you,
because you deserve hell for your sins:
one eternity is not black enough for creatures like you.

lies, lust, pain - that's your bread and butter.
you never were good at much else,
but ****** you are good at hurting
those around you, the ones who care.

she was right to get rid of you,
especially when she did,
because look how far you've come!

when was it... only last night you tried again,
didn't you? you thought no one was looking,
but they all have eyes, and someone will find out.

they'll see your scars (remember to keep it below the belt next time, buddy, okay?),
or they'll see the blood (god, how it gushed after all that dancing - i thought you were a goner),
or they'll find your pathetic little poems,
gathering dust on some forgotten corner of the internet,
where your heart is too bare,
and its blackness is plain to see.

what then? will it be worth it then?
to express something? just to try and put your life in words,
to express something?

"oh look at you, you poor thing,
you've been so hard done by..."

*******.

this is your fault,
and you deserve every last ounce of hurt.

My groove

Is classic

His is new aged

I got the kind of love

That is  nostalgic

The energy that is sacred

And never fades

Would you rather hold

Fools gold or cherish

A Rose from the concrete

And watch it grow

I pray your world

Never turns cold but

Instead shines brighter

Then a new born babies

Eyes or smile

That can last more then a million

Miles my angel just because

Your heart is broken

Doesn't mean your wings are

Let my be the glow to your

Halo

The feeling where you think

Your lost but suddenly

You know

With you anything is possible

A cure

A miracle

A blessing

A gift

A shield

A lifetime

So please oh please I am not

Begging but simply asking

Now and forever will you

Be mine

My spirit my soul

My heart my mind

My sunshine

I'm sitting in my room,
writing,
believing that I can change the world,
knowing that I can't,

I'm sitting here, alone,
I'm thinking of those who are suffering,
those who've lost everything,
those, who will never feel like home.

I'm sad,
feeling like crying,
wishing to save the world,
knowing well that I won't,

but something tells me
to keep on trying.

they like the taste of misery.
they will find someone,
someone who does not
want to wake up in the
morning, someone who can’t
smile and they will stay.
they will love them and
keep treating them like
they’re everything to
them. then this someone
will become happier
and they will smile
until there is no misery left.
then, they are left alone.
they are abandoned.
the person had come along
and cured the sadness long
enough to take it away
just for a little while.
they like the taste of misery.
-i liked the taste of you.

I'm a reject and i know this because
everybody has that one person or
one group of people that
just isn't the same without each other.

But I
have never found such people

I wander, hopelessly hopeful
of making some conversation,
but I never have anything to talk about
because I can never be a part of their
life long enough to have anything
meaningful to mention

I'm a reject and i know this because
people i know are usually easily picked
out of a crowd. They are never left behind.
They are included.

But I
always enter the chatter midway

I pick up bits and pieces as I
come and go, like a vulture
for gossip and for information
because I am always the one to message first
and I am always the one to be mentioned last.
I'm nobody's first pick.

I'm a reject and i know this because
I can't just have one selection of people
to choose from. I acquaint myself with
everybody I meet.

But I hate it because
I feel like nobody, and nobody knows me.

Except
                      for
                              ­        You

WITCH
By: Jean Gutierrez

******* sorrounds us,
When you get to attach to them
They came up with freaking stories
Those rumors that can ruin your name.

And when you let it go deeper,
You’ll be played without knowing it
Those moments when you laugh
Will change into anger.

You’ll be hesitant to say a word,
Some of the letters were gone, missing
And when you hear the name or voice of it
Little by little your blood goes up.

Why are you here?
My hands crumpled and ready to punch
But I controlled it
Because it’s only a waste of time.