| Her strength has faded , she sheds her last tear before she drags the blade down her wrist . She thinks to herself " whats the point ?" after all she already considers herself dead. She is nothing but a whisper in a gush of wind , she is without a purpose . Her mnd is now made up . She goes to a happy memory holds onto it as she drags the blade down her wrist . she bleeds out her sorrows , her regrets , her anger . As she approaches her last breath she smiles and forgets her past says goodbye to her future and she's gone . |
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| people always tell me do what youur told and ask no questions , how can i do that when the thing im told to do needs questions ? they try to control you after all they are your parents , but why is that we live in a democracey but are treated as slaves at home ? i have so many questions that are bottled and sheltered in my mind because i am afraid of what i might say and what the result might be . they lie to you and tell you its for protection but to be honest with you most of their lies are to cover up their mistakes. they try to tell you right from wrong but why is it when we are proven right they can never be wrong ? |
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| they silence her with their judgment and words that slaughter her soul. tears tremble down her cheeks and she crumbles to the floor catching her breath. they take away a piece of her sanity everyday and shes left as the odd one out, the black sheep in a flock of white. she used to admire this daring quality of being diferent but shes starting to resent her self for being so abnormal in her world. she comes up with ideas and and feels positive but gets told she will accomplish nothing and the words are like daggers stabbing thru her ego. she is the black sheep and will always be the black sheep. |
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| some days i feel like a go getta and others i want to hide in the shadows. i feel as though i dont exist like im a quiet whisper passing through the gush of the wind. my voice is never heard my voice will never be heard. the clock counts down our demise and for that im terrified. they do not understand that i am under this microscope that is putting the light on me and the dead center of its focus. i have opened up to them and been slammed shut so now i am quiet. i am that small insect in the eye of the storm that has no control, no power, no choice. |
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| A star is a littlee piecee of magic that comees out everyynitee to remindd us that there is still hopee in this world and thoughh the worldd is filled with dishonor andd distrust we must still dareee to believe<3 - katiee |
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