Fallen AngelA fallen angel,With nothing to spare,She tears her heart open,But it's not there,She falls to the ground,And cries for her sins,For an angel has departed,From the battle within.
Hidden SinsBeneath my skin hides a monstrous sin,Where monsters hide,And begin my sins,Killing me slowly from within.Where monsters hide,They lurk and smile,They are killing me slowly,Dragging me down.They lurk and smile,Looking at what they have done,Dragging me down,They now have my soul.Looking at what they have done,They know my sins,They now have my soul,Deep from within.They know all my sins,It's all over the wall,Deep from within,Beneath my skin hide a monstrous sin.
FeelingsIt's funny how one second every thing is fine good grades winning every game and race tons of friends perfect everything and a perfect boyfriend who loves you with every inch of his heart then the next second your boyfriend loses his heart your so upset you start to get behind in school, so you fail, then your so sad you can't stop crying to go to the games and races. Your friends start to fight your best friend goes out with your ex turns her back on you. Your so stressed in the morning you dont have time to do your hair and make up so you look terrible. And them to top it all off you have to hide behind a smile and a laugh to hide your tears and broken heart.-Coa
Poem about deathIn darkness of the nightI spied him in a treeSat I froze by the sightHe was looking at meThe summer's heat became a chillThe angel of death at his killMy heart skipped with the frightBlinked my eyes to bet'r seeGlanced back with all my mightParted he my comp'nyMy chest was quickly pounding stillThe angel of death at his killI did rise and take flightThe fear made me to fleeFrom darkness into lightTo free captivityUnbinding my soul from his willThe angel of death at his killMany years since that nightGazed I on that braz'n beMem'ries of still inciteFears of my slaveryExistence of him makes me illThe angel of death at his kill
Love is a crazy thingEver since I met you,I've had these feelings deep inside,mainly when you hold me,and look into my eyes,you make me feel so young again,and give me feelings I'd forgot,you make me feel so happy,with cupids arrow I've been shot.
Friends will do anthing but...Me and you is friends you smile, i smile... you cry, i cry... you jump off bridge. i gonna miss your E-Mails. .
Bullied On Our Friendly Website DA There was once a two authors on a website that wanted to let their opinion out.But a famous author set to put them out.She took the flame of these little author’s hearts making them burn from blue to red.And here’s what she said,“Your little fire shall be extinguished because I want you to get the Fuck Out!”The tiny authors wept and cried.Wondering was it because they picked a side.Maybe if they had gone with the flow of everyone elsethey wouldn't have suffered being a different self?The small male author thought it was too much to handle and left.But the dainty female author stayed behind. HoweverThe light within her grew dimmer and dimmer.And its glow became barely a shimmer.Her originality became to be like everything else she owned: plastic.She wasn't real anymore; just another author following the trends.All hope was lost.No one to come save her.Sadness reigned within her, making her shallow and pale as Frost.Not
Suckerpunch SweetheartRed lipstick war paintEyeliner eyes.I am a soldier in my own war;A force split in two sides.I am a force of natureBring about my own raptureAnd I’ll bring you to your knees.Say pleaseLittle girl lost.Cut off my hairCut into my skinPretty princess girlCardinal sin.Let me inLet me in.Sugar in my veinsAnd poison in my heart;I can turn bloodInto a work of art.I won’t go there againWon’t do itI won’t.HandsA sea of handsAnd andsIn my head.A universe inside.Dead.Icy skinFiery eyesNobody knowsJust what's inside.
Can You Hold on One More Day?I read a poem about a boy.Who had lost all of his pride and joy.He wore his heart on his sleeves.Which were stained red,From all of the blood that he bled.The boy died...By the blade of a knife.That he ran up and down his wrists.And I couldn't help but cry.That poem was fake.There wasn't such a boy.It wasn't a true story.But... Then I began to realize.That just because it wasn't that specific boy.There are others just like him.Begging for death.Slitting their wrists,And hoping to die.Because so many times,They've tried,And so many times,They've cried.But nothing gets better!I just wanted to say,I've been that boy.At some point.I felt that way.And I just wanted to say,I am so sorry.I know it hurts but hang on another day.Another month,Another year.Please, stay with me dear.Don't join that boy,No, not tonight.Stay with me,Please?
Eternity Comes Only Once ...In a dream of eternal youthwith beautiful eyes and unspoken truths,dancing on a thin thread drawn by Selenain a blue night when all four winds talking about peace;...In that unique poem when loveshines more than the Sun God on your ring finger,weaving lasting hopes on a delicate cobwebin a white day of the beginning of all beginnings;...In a cold afternoon of Decemberwith memories which surrounds the Arctic Circle,melting everlasting snows that floods the time, paradoxically, leaving behind them the fire which burns your heart;....In the black hole of a single moment,with pain, with answers, with courage, maybe with joy, or Not,Waltz with the time between seconds,Eternity comes only once...
V o i c e sThese whispers in my head,trying to push me to the end.All I want is to go home,but then I remember,I've always been alone.
absent resolvei.i cradle my hopewith both hands,as if holding it closewill give it the warmthto stay alive.when you come nearit flares and rustles,begging to take flight;yet i am both caressand cage.ii.we have confused our signals,mixed our drinks andnever together.closure looms ominousbut i would rather forgetthan be caught in thisluminous void ofperhaps -iii.i am weakand perhapsyou are blind,we, silent,are nothingperhaps we could beeverythingif only we spoke.iv.enigma,you have unknowinglytwisted yourselfin helical fundamentalsabout my identity,shaped me inabsence andthe embers ofa chance.i wish i knewwhen to releasethis frail hope.v.we're both drunkand you're shaking,caught in a momentneither here nor now.entwined fingersbring you back tothe present, and i lingerbut you are eager to eclipsethis vulnerability,so you run.vi.i'm too afraid to ask,but at least the question'sanswered:we're both cowards.
bound in retrospectpart i.let's talkabout wreckage and dreaming,about nights wept weary,and how city limitscompress to claim youwhen you run.let’s talkabout slippingaway early mo(u)rningand choosing dark over light;how eventually i stoppedwishing upon starsbecause really,what’s the point.let's talk;there is no true wayfor someone this self-consciousto let loose streams ofconsciousness,but i'm trying.interlude: youyou,you are an immersionheartbeatracing down my spine,along vertebrae as ifthey belong to youbut they shouldn’t,not now.you,you are long-limbed eyelashes,a study in faux-reluctance.you are a cagei never could penetratealthough you never had much troubleignoring my reluctance;penetration became a gamei never won.part ii.let’s talk;this was never a love story,but add enough adjectiveand i guess it can bewhatever you want it to be.warped to your ideal,turn me to my better angleand hide the flaws;hide the fa
Demons Can Feel TooI'll admit that I'm a demon.I'm cold and cruel,Hateful and quick to anger.I'm flawed.I prefer darkness over light.But demons can have feelings too.I can be hurt, offended.I can be sympathetic.I can care for other peopleAnd I can love.I may be a cruel being.Excessively so at times.But that doesn't make me heartless.Though I may seem so,I'm not.I do have a heart.And I do use it.Just not often.Because the problem with having a heartIs it can be broken.And I don't want a broken heart.I think maybe that's why demons seem so cruel and hateful.They're just afraid of getting hurt.
Can I Get a Receipt?I gave the worldto youand all I gotin returnis bloodied, mutilated wristsand a death wish.
heats are broken everywhere i lookhearts are made to be broken... and love is made so its like a window when the window gets broken its better to leave it be then to hurt yourself trying to fix it.