GoodbyeI have seen the end of a dream. No more will pen grace page or thoughts form words. I used to believe I could write, that I could change random words into flowing sentences, but I was a fool.Goodbye
No more shall bloody deaths or excruciating pain be described word by red word. No more shall pain be written upon or death be brought to life, never more. I’d like to believe that people didn’t lie to me, but I can’t. Too many people are frightened of me, are afraid of what I could do, to tell me the truth of how bad my writing realy is.
So this is my adieu to the written
My OwnEach day is a haze Passing slowly or quickly… I don’t know Go from class to class See the people around me, feel them brush by me Barley scraping the surface of life Thoughts stay inside Feelings trapped forever Never to be known Never to be spoken Questions answered in half truthsMy Own
True answers never seen
True thoughts never said
Truth no longer
BeautyHow do you define what beauty is? Is it in the many different romantic languages such as Italian, French or Spanish? Is it when you create a metaphor about them? Is it when you gaze into their eyes one late night and see your soul reflected back at you? Is it that smile that spreads over your face when thoughts of them come to mind? Or is it all of them together that create what beauty truly is? I can't tell you what beauty truly is; I can just raise the question in your mind and tell you what I think it is. I've found it in all those cases and more, I've found it when I lay back and think of every moBeauty
done
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Bruised//Not Broken
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