Left OutShe's left out to follow the opposite of begettingShe's somewhat depressed, somewhat deflectedBut possibly willing to change reflectionsI don't know myself but what I do know is thatShe's so shy, so awry, but possibly willing to flyBut it's hard to try when all her surroundingsAre all that's on her mind along with herselfSomething in her dying and fading awayYet, the days that went blind in a wayNow she's sighing, supplying her days with the flying nightBut in many ways, I think she's sensing great emphasisAll while she aspirates through out the dayBut she's left out and facing today without a handNext to her seconds, her days are become sectionsNow that the dusk met the dustI feel like every other thought of hers becomes syntheticAs she hears someone is gonna end up here, sympatheticallyShe's left out but some surveillance is her salvationHelp is all th
(Don't) Reach For ItThere is demise in front of you todayPlease, for me, don't reach for it nowYou're not filled with barren passionsYou have this day, you have yesterdayYou even have me on your enthusiasmMy unfallen compassion had always beenReaching your unfallen attraction anywaysAfter all, I've always had a bleeding heartI still see you standing there staring atChosen despairs so where are you reallyGoing with the tears that do bear wings?Is it because your conceptions mayBe becoming your new perception?Either way, I'm here, she's here, he's hereAnd your motives are here so if you needSome help getting through what you endUp with, someone is open to offer youSome of their moments to hear your chimesNo matter what, many wo
To ShyI may not have social anxiety butThe shyness inside has me (once again)The shyness inside got me (like every other time)It's when I want to met you in personBut this shyness has me again (please let me go)Friends are awaiting my arrivalAn angel is out there waiting for me(I wish I wasn't so shy)Why am I so shy?I can be a good guyUnless you talk to me, I can be so quietI can be a peaceful guyThen again, I can be so quietI always wanted to talk to you but I guess I'm just to shyWhy...Why am I so shy?I guess I'm that just to shy but then again, I'm not fully sureThis feeling has gotten to me again every time IWant go talk to someone that I really don't know so wellI know me but why am I so shy? (so shy just to go talk to you?)Inside, I don't know why I am shyMaybe I'm so use being quiet or maybe it's just that I'mNot use to talking to others and it leads me to waitJust to get a chance to talk to you in person
Letters to the PastTo my 24...You're starting to understandThere's maybe such a thingAs happy endingsTo my 21...The world has changed for youBut I promise I'll be hereTo pick up the piecesTo my 18...You're stronger than you thinkAnd the fallacy you live inNeeds to breakTo my 15...Please don't hate yourselfYou're right to think you're differentJust be patientTo my 12...I know you're brokenYou can't cry nowBut someday you willTo my 9...Even now so awkwardLife is one big puzzle boardYou're just not meant to fixTo my 6...So brave you standI'm ever proud of youRefusing to submitTo my 3...I don't have wordsTime won't bring her backBut she'll never leave youI'm 26 next monthI wonder what lettersI'd get back
MundaneI fell in love too easily:I fell for the stars.I fell for the sky.I fell for brown eyes.I want the boring things:To wear pajamas all day.To build a pillow fort.To wake up in someone's arms.I like the mundane:The feel of rain.The taste of honey.The smell of lilies. But reallyI fell for all the right things.Nothing is truly boring.And "mundane" is just another wordfor "under appreciated".
a 500 mile dashOh feeble heart, don't stopI only need a momentto catch my breath. Theincessant rise and fallof my chest is almostas exhausting as knowingI've got years more of thisoxygen-laced race to run.
Papers and Cake Roses were a curious flower, rife with symbolic meaning yet rarely understood. Thorns and blossoms forming an artistic counterpoint, Lyra ceased fussing with the arrangement and finally turned up her face to acknowledge her tutor. It was a rare concession, but she’d grown bored with the basic exercises she’d already done and knew he wouldn't let her advance if she didn't listen to him drone on about what was next. Oddly, he made no move to launch into one of his speeches, and after a moment she realized he hadn't paid her any attention as she ignored him. “Sir.” Lyra felt no shame or irony at the reprimand in her voice. Her parents paid him good money; it was his duty to sit and allow her to torment him. Vexingly, he didn't so much as look up, and instead continued writing something in the slim notebook he always carried with him. She'd thought it was to take down his reports on her progress but judging fr
Devious Journal EntryIf you don't care: stop reading.If you would come to my funeral: favorite this.If you miss me: comment a heart.If you're not scared: Re-post and see who your "Real friends" are.