forswornbrother86

Smile through the tears, babe. They'll be the happiest moments of your life and in a second it'll all be gone. Give me a grin, don't let that waterfall of sadness stop you, lay a hand on mine and smile. Ignore the falling rocks and kiss me, we're the only ones who matter tonight. Ignore the darkness closing in, and let the starlight caress us, sweetly and slowly. Smile through the tears.

Bogged down in the past looking forward to the future bored by the present happy with what I've done dissapointed with who I am scared about who I'm going to be wishing I was better knowing I'm the best I can be hungry for something full of it already welling up with tears ridiculously happy. I feel huge and very small.

She is,          to me at least,   perfect. Although, i see a sadness. I see a struggle,           deep inside of her. I can see it in      her closed mouth smile. I can see it in      her meaningful eyes. I gaze into them and see          promises,  made to her,                              promises,             broken. Inside of her is a path.     Longer than most paths. A black path,      a light at the end. But the light is just one more                 promise. A promise,  no doubt,  made to be broken again. I look for a heart inside of her,    I see,                I see,            shards

You looked at me. Or were you looking through me? Your auburn hair was blown across your face. Your hazel eyes were harsh...but capturingly beautiful You did not smile. You had no reason to. Your pursed lips vibrated as tears started to crawl over your perfect cheeks You closed your eyes, and turned away. Autumn leaves fell around you as you broke my heart.

As the one adventurous oaty loop that crawls over the lip of the bowl falls down towards the floor, I open my ears in anticipation. As that adventurous oaty loop collides inevitably with the varnished wooden floor, the most wonderful noise fills the hallway. The noise is full of sugary optimism. It is a noise of hope, a noise of... promise... And as I pick that loop up and place it back in my bowl, I can't help but think about tomorrow when the little cheerio will fall out and fill me with joy all over again.

A gathering of belligerent sarcasm; a spinning circle of politicians. A war or a pudding? Just as tasty.

Pink shirt. Black jacket (leather jacket). Hat. Scars of love and addiction paint a portrait of desperation on your arms. You could fit a million ideas into the brain behind those burning, stoned eyes, but instead you fill it with abscence. Why?

My two sides collide inside of me; a marriage of the hope of a better day, and the knowledge that one will never come. The conflict remains unchanged, a miserable rain-soaked war of principles, neither army seeming to break ahead, just increasing their powers, as if the devil heard my prayers, and decided to reverse them. Grey clouds put further shade to the hellish performance, the ceaseless hostility that shows no signs of relenting. Its gradual attempts to fracture my weakened skull appear to be succeding, as back in the real world, a headache resembling torture ravages my everyday life. I get looks that I can no longer co

Even the tabloids would not print the atrocities that are your tuesdays, hidden in scandals and disgust. Even the life that awaits you, one full of despair, disease and tuesdays, won't be broadcasted to the world. Even through good times and the bad, the critical public frown on tuesdays, never a change from what they feel.

The room you love to sit in is characteristically minimalist. The only object inside the four white walls is a flowery red cushion sat perfectly plump, perfectly in the centre of the room. There is a window on the south wall, so at least some of the room is illuminated in every daylight hour. There is no light bulb hanging from the ceiling because there are no light bulbs anywhere in your house. You sit in this room, facing away from the window, with the sun pulsing lightly on your back, delicately sculpting origami models of your favourite animals; mostly swans but also others. You are perfectly content when you hear the wind whistle through

A Man Mourns His Muse We were all paired on Parnassus. But when the city sank under the howling water I left him. Snap. I caught him old on his deathbed. He spoke quietly. I leaned in, deftly: Once I dreamt of flickering elms the dancing cars O I chased them till I wept. I could not match them for speed. They threw spooling loops of light as though they knew I would not catch them. In another dream I skated the wafer of light between evening and night balanced, glacial until the moon rose and I fell. Today I felt I'd slipped into the space between terraced houses. He could not have known. I

i try and tell myself that it's all in my head that you would never play with my emotions i have no regrets about what was said you're a completely different person to me now and you can never go back you've changed so much our love used to be something no one could touch hidden from the world, only visible in our eyes the sparkle i would get each time i saw your face the immediate mood change the inability to frown, it's all disappeared like ashes into the ground, forcibly seared never to be seen again and these flames have burned on never-ending, we're only pretending i used to look at you and see someone who would never hurt

I'm just a kid.  No, scratch that - I'm just a punk kid; isn't that what you'd call me?  I've got a pierced eyebrow and a pierced lip.  My hair is long, shaggy, and black with purple streaks.  I've got over twenty tattoos and circles under my eyes from one too many late nights.  I'm just a dumb, punk kid, and you hate me, don't you?  You know I'm a user and an abuser. You know that if I didn't have this leather jacket on, you'd see a line of needle marks up my arm.  You know those circles under my eyes are from nights spent drinking, downing pint after pint, popping pills like candy.  You know that in five years I'll not be able to climb a fl

I hear the sting of his palm But I feel a pain not yours The house takes on an eerie calm The truth's hidden by locked doors Shattered glass litters the halls Of this home that was once warm I harken to my siblings' calls And take all three in my arms My head is filled with cotton My movements aren't my own As we dwell on loves forgotten And the seeds of grief he's sown Fears hidden 'neath the covers That you had made for me We lie in bed together And cry in harmony When I'm sitting all alone And feeling real depressed My lover calls me on the phone And tells me not to feel helpless But you won't ever learn That your chil