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Forevermyangel14Show poetry

It’s been too damn long. I know it, and you know it, and the whole world would know it if they could hear my thoughts. It goes on and on, doesn’t it? The only thing I can hold onto now is that you love me. I know you do, and you should know I love you too; just as much. No matter how hard this gets, or how many times a week we fight, or the amount of trouble I get in for doing this, our love doesn’t change, not at all. Sometimes I wonder how I got here but I don’t really give a shit anymore. This was not your fault. This is just the way it is, and you have given me the power to stop blaming myself. I adore this is you. You give me so much and don’t ask for much back. Maybe you ask for a letter or two, or for me to listen when you tell me something over and over, but that’s nothing compared to what you give me. I can’t say that enough. I don’t want you to feel like you don’t do enough. You do so much, and I don’t even deserve it. I love you more than anything. That’s all that matters in all of this. 16 months of this is a long damn time.


























You'll see.

06.13.08










"I'm not a slave to a world that doesn't give a shit."

My Poetry

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  • Your heart beat echoes in my mind like a long lost lullaby,
    Creasing my stature,
    18 lines, 12 comments, October 6
  • I will stare at you until you stop, cold, so cold you can’t tell if your burning or not. I will beg you, plead, until you stop me. Do not take this lightly; do not believe the cocks will save us.
    5 lines, 3 comments, September 25
  • The concrete beneath the worn soles of my stolen shoes is cracking with every step I take. They have no meaning, just like those apathetic business men with their stiff blank colored ties that sneer as they pass. They think t
    9 lines, 4 comments, September 17. In Abuse, Pain, Thoughts, story, Love
  • Darkness consumes the creatures who follow in its path,
    Like a lost lamb listening for the cries of its mother,
    20 lines, 5 comments, August 21

My Stories

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My journal entries

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  • The glass I’m holding out in front of me is filled with things I don’t want to remember. Shoving it down my throat, I tell myself this is me. This is what they want. I hold hands with a man I barely know, and praise myself to everyone. Smiles are so fake it’s disgusting. 1 As stupid as it seems, I don’t want to
    October 13, In Spur of the moment, Thoughts.  200 words. 4 comments, Add one?
  • What happens when you close your eyes? Is the darkness too much and you fall into unconsciousness or do you lie awake as memories and the color of thoughts flash before you? Could anyone think what I think before I’m gone into another selfish dream? The color black doesn’t look black at all, not at night, not with a
  • "In the movie of your life, who would play you?" 1 I am not me. My heart beats, just like yours, but it does not mean the same thing. You cannot compare yourself to me, your life to mine. I am not you, and I do not wish to be. I have walked this line, invisible, for almost all of my life. You can’t see me. How ca

Guest Book

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