EmoBitch591

Her romantic mind calls to order the words that lay dormant in the stagnant air of her right brain artistry. Colors she long forgot existed jumped before her very eyes while all in the darkened room lay still. She remembered songs she had sung, but never heard before in this lifetime; flavours that had never touched her tongue; smells that died long before the generation she was born to came into light. A dace, a beautiful face; a beautiful woman stood screaming in flames for the crime of loving her. Him? Her romanticism skipped town as she was pulled into a dream land—no, reality—and back into the darkened room she lay in solitude.

If she had to chose one of her senses to live without, it would never be her hearing. After 23 years living in the city, she may as well have been deaf to the sound of nature. The day she moved into a small town, with ponds and woods and lakes and deer, she thought it was too quiet. She could hear nothing but her own thoughts haunting her. She'd go for walks searching for the sounds she longed to hear, and she'd try so hard to hear the beauty that she would get severe migraines. She eventually began walking with her ipod on, playing her favorite music. She's walk, and sing, and she'd enjoy it. She thought, "maybe this is the beauty," until th

And in silence we sit; only our thoughts to occupy our minds. Words unspoken ranging from uncertainty to fear to the plain old unknown. I can barely even look at you. Not because it hurts but because I look at you with a growing love in my eyes. The way I love a child, a friend. The sudden end was unknown. The future is always unknown. Yet one always expects it to change, expects this time to be different. But it isn't. How can the unknown change but to turn into the known? The now.

The smile she's wearing bears the scars of her past. "She's one of the lucky ones," is what some people say. She was abused; not physically, not sexually, but emotionally. "She's one of the lucky ones." The lucky one who can't hear a car's tires squeal without her heart stopping. The lucky one who can't remember a positive thing about her father. The lucky one who, when in fifth grade fractured her elbow, her father's response was, "If you wanted to see me you could have just told me." She lost all respect for him that day. But while they say, "she's the lucky one," they don't know that whenever her father came home from work, his loving gr

Dear Papa, I know you don't know me very well. Unless of course heaven really does exist, and you've been watching over us for the past 16 years. I was just a toddler when you passed away. I was just turning three. Do you remember me? I have no way to know if you had enough strength to remember what was going on around you while you were dying. Truth be told, I don't even know how long you were that sick. So by asking if you remember me I could be making a complete fool out of myself. Mommy always told me that we would be best friends. I love classic cars. And I know you still would if you were alive. I always joke around with Mom that if

Tonight is the night my cinders burn the grass away and my ashes blow away like breath in the wind The boys come from nowhere, materializing from the trees, with vengeance in their eyes. The first one lay a hand on my shoulder, the second twists my waist and turns me around. A third forces his sun chapped lips upon mine; while two more watch, and laugh. He tastes like stale cigarettes; I'll never forget that taste. Seconds go by that feel like minutes. Minutes that trail for hours. My shirt lay in ribbons in the dirt. A rock pushes dangerously into my spine A boot cracks some ribs, another breaks my leg, a third bruises my hi