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I am.I am.
I am the person who lives.
I am the person who loves.
I am the girl who cries to sleep at night, wishing I could be prettier.
I am the boy who is trying to live up to everyone else's expectations other than my own.
I am the invisible who linger in the hallways.
I am the person who bullies to feel better.
I am the parent who gave up after my child went to jail.
I am the daughter who works at fifteen because my parents can't.
I am the person who is bullied for being different.
I am the person who lives because I don't know what happens after death.
I am the woman who is hit on every day because of my looks, making them more of a curse then
I am the man who took steroids to be stronger and now am discarded by society.
I am the child who was forgotten.
I am the broken.
I am the hero.
I am the villain.
I am the takers.
I am the givers.
I am the deserving.
I am the bullied.
I am the pressured.
I am the suffering.
I am the surviving.
I am the wishers.
I am the dreamers.
LoveIt's the song on the radio that reminds you of what you had and what you lost.
It's the smile that a baby gives when she is genuinely happy.
It's the sound of a laugh from someone who hasn't laughed in a long, long time.
It's the friend who still remembers you even if you call after fifteen years.
It's the last piece of chocolate saved for you in a box you thought was empty.
It's the gift that is exactly what you needed, when you needed it.
It's the two hour ride across town, just so she can see you before she leaves.
It's the dog who waits for you to come home, just to give you all the affection in the world.
It's the companionship one feels in silence when they have found their best friend.
It's the feeling of a warm blanket someone put on you after you fell asleep.
It's the boy who does the stupidest things in the world, just to see you laugh.
It's the girl who kisses you the way she has never ever kissed anyone before.
It's the woman who gives up her seat on the train to the old la
VeritaphobiaYou. Yes you.
Remember how we used to play? Back when you and I were young? Remember how we'd run all day, and please recall the song we sung? It's different now though, isn't it? Your soul is dead, your heart is black. I've never met such a miserable git, you're always so eager to attack.
With your words of venom and wit of ice, I find it harder to cling on. Because of you my old recollections of love are nearly all but gone.
We'll never feel the same again, I cannot see you anymore. You're the one to blame, not me, I mustn't feel guilty for pushing you out our door. I just don't want you anymore. Please don't hit me whilst I lie upon the kitchen floor. As I wipe the blood from my face, I fear I'll hear the raven's caw. I cannot. No, not you. Not anymore. No more hurt, not anymore.
Please, don't hit me. Not anymore. My clothes don't fit me. Not anymore. I fear that you'll kick me, upon the kitchen floor. And crawling to the sink, I'll be sick, and beg 'Please... not anym
Proud To Be A NerdProud To Be A Nerd
Oh, sure, we're at the bottom of the social ladder.
But to be honest with you, the view's not always better at the top.
Nerds have intellect.
Nerds have insight.
Nerds have interests.
And what do you have?
Yeah, that's what I thought.
So don't laugh we when let out our mighty "SQUEE" of delight.
Don't laugh when we dress up for movie premieres.
Don't laugh when we treat our nerdy interests as Serious Business.
Because we will laugh right back
while insulting you in a way that people like you couldn't understand if you tried.
Which you won't.
So don't trip us in the hall
or steal our nerdy thingamabobs
or insult us in the most pathetic way.
Because we will get our revenge.
You may not even notice, but we will.
Whether we "borrow" all of your pencils
one by one by one,
put too much salt on your food
or walk up to the head cheerleader and say,
"See that guy over there?
He thinks you look fat in that outfit",
we will get our revenge.
One, Two, Three...I count the breaths I have left in me.
I get to ten-
Feeling as though I don't truly exist.
That there's bigger things,
More important things-
Other than little 'ole me.
It hurts that I'm sad-
But it's just me.
The little 'emo' girl,
Hiding beneath her bedtime sheets-
She cries at the memories.
Wishing for her living nightmare to disappear,
Testing to see if this is truly reality-
She hurts herself.
Slicing her arm until she screams,
She's falling into her mind.
Curling into a little ball-
Deaf to the obvious,
Blind to the evil.
She's losing herself-
Watching her pain stain everything.
She's wishing for this breath to be her last.
And for her life to end somewhat fast.
Gender massacre.anatomy is like a cage, that tears away any hope.
born this way, born that way,
our mind chooses nothing.
do we choose what we are? Or does anatomy?
long hair, tight skirts, weak.
thank you, society.
flailing body parts, vulgar dancing, bare.
thank you, ladies.
give those who identify as women a stereotype by wearing more makeup
baggy shorts, shaved heads, muscles.
thank you, society.
patronizing insults, unnessecary grunts, aggressive.
thank you, gentlemen.
give those who identify as men a stereotype by cheating at poker, where
a woman's heart's on the table.
you can't be either,
you can't be both
[this is what you teach me, society.
this is what you teach yourselves, society.]
rip off this skin of mine
rip off these assumptions
rip off the ignorance
and call me human.
ExcusesHe sleeps like a child without a voice. (And she listens like a child who cannot hear.)
He dreams like a stranger on a train. (And she watches like another fixated by his thoughts.)
He sighs like the first whisper of a rainstorm. (And she understands like the eve of the storm.)
He breathes like tomorrow is his last day. (And she reminds him that he will live longer than ever.)
He sings like a bird in the winds of the forest. (And she understands the sweetness of every note.)
He cries like the downpour in the desert. (And she climbs to the ends of the earth to make him smile.)
He loses his way like a deer out of the forest. (And she guides him back each time to the place where he is meant to be.)
He breaks like a fragile flower in the dust and the wind. (And she tells him he is too strong to be fragile ever.)
He fights like the last angel defending heaven. (And she gives him his swords and armor.)
He writes like the blood from the finest writer's heart. (And she reads his words with awe
Shout so your voice is heard
Shout above those trying to bring you down
Shout when you're with friends
Shout to protect the ones you love
Shout and show your true self
Shout cheers and try hard
Shout until your lungs give out
Shout until you have no anger
Shout until you feel no fear
Shout while living each day to it's fullest
Shout when the seasons change
Shout when you feel free
Whisper your love of those moments held dear
In The Darkness I remainMy heart broken
Blood coming from the hole
The hole where my heart used to be
As I fall onto my knees
Creating a pool on the ground
My blood and tears mixed
My breathing fast
Trying to grab the pieces of my heart
Trying to put them together
But they only shatter in my hands
My heart shattered
In the darkness I remain
Trying to scream for help
But no answer
Pain taking over
Pain stopping me from screaming
Stopping my blood from flowing
Switching the warmth into cold
My eyes turn empty
My breathing comes to a stop
And my last movement is falling on my face
The darkness I remain
The cold my friend
Death came to get my soul
Leaving my body in the dark
I wish somebody would hear me
Putting my broken heart together
But guess it's too late now
In the darkness I remain
Death got what he wanted
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Lilyas has dedicated herself to making our community a brighter place with her vibrant artwork and infectious enthusiasm for interacting with others in our community. It has certainly paid off, as many deviants flock to her page on a daily basis to let her know how much of an inspiration she is. We absolutely agree, and couldn't let all that hard work go without recognition, so it's with great pride that we bestow the Deviousness Award for March 2014, to ... Read More