| this is where what passes as art can be found at =] |


Does It Make It Better?So, how do you feel? Better? Does the blood show that? Does the liquid spill down your arm and take the pain away? Do the scabs hide your pain, do they make it go away? How does it feel? Does it make it better? You gotta shred your skin and feel the pain, And is that knife your Christ, the banisher of pain, The savour of sins? Yea, so theres blood, and yea, it glints and in a macabre way, Sure, its beautiful, But, hell, so can you be.Does It Make It Better?
So fuck your butterflies, aint no drawing gonna banish that pain. They adorn your fore-arm and are no stranger to me. &n


Sic Transit Gloria. Part 2WorkSic Transit Gloria. Part 2
My phone bleared some dreary attempt at a church bell tune. Which, though pathetic, nonetheless woke me up. And begin the smart and stupid child I was, had to get up to where I had placed it on the windowsill, for this exact purpose, to shut it up. Awake, half awake, at least, I glared around my room, waiting for my eyes to adjust to the light and the sudden sight, sitting back down on the bed, I slid open the bedside cabinet drawer, I pushed aside my old watch, and reached for the tobacco, and the rizla, furtively rolling one up, I checked around to ensure my parents hadnt decided to take the day off work, I shut the


Sic Transit Gloria. Part 1CigarettesSic Transit Gloria. Part 1
Cigarettes
Thanks I swiped the tobacco and lighter from the counter with a similarity that matched how he had swiped the money from my hand, and grudgingly handed over the change. I walked outside, I stared at the tobacco packet morosely, wished I could afford real cigarettes, how tedious to have to roll one up, it would be so much easier the whip it out the packet, light it, have it done and smoking in a few seconds. But no, I have to get a rizla, get a filter, measure out the baccy, roll it, lick it, put it together and pray it holds. I walked out of the rough centre, to my friend
| this is where what passes as art can be found at =] |


DarknessThere is a reflection of pain in her eyes, as she fights back tears. Trying to figure out why she has put up with it all of these years.Darkness
Innocence gone.
Just taken away.
Struggling to deal with it & be free someday. Tries to tell someone but no one believes her cries.
Just another young girl getting some attention through lies. Suicide has crossed her mind but she will not go out that way.
Thinking well maybe if he cant find me, he just won't rape me today
Perfect smile.
Broken soul.
Living in this situation that she just can't control. Things get worse & he beats
The Masochist
Fruity

kylekyle is clinging onto sanitykyle
by just a thread and
drowning between realities
while counting
all the ironies in his life.
kyle spends his days
and nights searching not for someone else,
but for himself.
he could tell you every
place he isnt,
but never where he is.
kyle is one thousand
shades of grey,
bleeding hatehatehate all
over the carpet and
theyre telling him to stop,
but he wont he cant.
| i want to make a name for myself, and here is where i made a start, just looking for where i go wrong. which seems to be about everywhere |
--
Labour Without Joy is Base. Labour Without Sorrow Is Base. Sorrow Without Labour is base. Joy Without Labour Is base.- John Ruskin.
"Memories a poor thing to have. its your own real hair and eyes and hands and mouth i want."-Philip Pullman
--
Labour Without Joy is Base. Labour Without Sorrow Is Base. Sorrow Without Labour is base. Joy Without Labour Is base.- John Ruskin.
"Memories a poor thing to have. its your own real hair and eyes and hands and mouth i want."-Philip Pullman
--
Be careful whose toes you step on today because they might be connected to the foot that kicks your ass tomorrow.
All it takes is one bad day to reduce the sanest man alive to lunacy. That's how far the world is from where I am. Just one bad day!!
--
Labour Without Joy is Base. Labour Without Sorrow Is Base. Sorrow Without Labour is base. Joy Without Labour Is base.- John Ruskin.
"Memories a poor thing to have. its your own real hair and eyes and hands and mouth i want."-Philip Pullman
--
Be careful whose toes you step on today because they might be connected to the foot that kicks your ass tomorrow.
All it takes is one bad day to reduce the sanest man alive to lunacy. That's how far the world is from where I am. Just one bad day!!
--
Okay so there are these two guys and they.. like say something funny... I think. Sorry my friend told me the joke but I don't think I did it right.
Thankyou, once again.
--
~AkiyaRae
Being On DA Killed My Yoshi >.<
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