Ma, he's making eyes at me
Ma he's almost breaking my heart...
I'm beside him
Mercy! Let his conscience guide him
Ma, he wants to marry me!Be my honey bee
Every minute he gets bolder
Now he's leaning on my shoulder
Monday, June 10, 2013
Ever heard of acceptance?
I wish some people could accept the world the way it is now...
Its okay to have opinions and all, don't get me wrong
but you cant please everybody
Its okay to have opinions and all, don't get me wrong
but you cant please everybody
Thursday, April 11, 2013
The Blunt Knife
Her eyebrows
furrowed.
She was not
expecting this.
The knife
she retrieved from the kitchen refused to cooperate with her.
As she
squeezed it in her fist,
the blade
ceased to cut her palm.
She wanted
to see her blood spill all over her bed sheets.
This was her
relief from the pain she was going through.
She stared
at her hand…
The stress
bundled up inside her.
She decided
to do the best.
She held the
knife in front of her
with both
hands -
blade facing
south.
And with an
impeccable, robust force
she pierced her
chest
and fell to
the floor.
She smiled
covered in her blood.
The knife
succeeded her.
-- CrimsonRose333
Monday, February 25, 2013
Me with spiders...
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Saturday, February 23, 2013
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
A Gloomy Dancer
In The Dark Gloomy Night
In the dark gloomy night,
Lies a sweet birdie,
In the hopes of her flight,
With a jejune heart,
With her melodious voice,
Awakens the souls,
She cries but no one hears,
And they say 'how sweet is her voice'
'Look the way she sings'
But no one looks at the way she hides her cry,
In her self, and sings it with them in there dance,
She is happy to see them happy,
In hopes of her flight,
She looks at the sky,
Black blanket spread above her,
Warning her to run,
It comes more lower to her,
And she silently watches,
Breaths a little,
Then comes the evil,
Like a vortex,
Roaring, and dominating,
To frighten her,
To feast on her,
To leave her breathless,
In no hopes of her flight,
She looks around,
And nobody realizes,
She has become an evanescent soul now,
Forgotten to sing, forgotten to live,
Enfeebled,
Enervating,
Completely jaded,
Completely faded in the dark gloomy night,
There lies no sweet bird...
Lies a sweet birdie,
In the hopes of her flight,
With a jejune heart,
With her melodious voice,
Awakens the souls,
She cries but no one hears,
And they say 'how sweet is her voice'
'Look the way she sings'
But no one looks at the way she hides her cry,
In her self, and sings it with them in there dance,
She is happy to see them happy,
In hopes of her flight,
She looks at the sky,
Black blanket spread above her,
Warning her to run,
It comes more lower to her,
And she silently watches,
Breaths a little,
Then comes the evil,
Like a vortex,
Roaring, and dominating,
To frighten her,
To feast on her,
To leave her breathless,
In no hopes of her flight,
She looks around,
And nobody realizes,
She has become an evanescent soul now,
Forgotten to sing, forgotten to live,
Enfeebled,
Enervating,
Completely jaded,
Completely faded in the dark gloomy night,
There lies no sweet bird...
-Ayesha Riaz
-Thorn♥
A Broken Piano
Piano
Touched by your goodness,
I am like that grand piano we found one night on Willoughby
that someone had smashed and somehow heaved through an open window.
And you might think by this I mean I’m broken or abandoned, or unloved.
Truth is, I don’t know exactly what I am,
Any more than the wreckage in the alley knows it’s a piano,
filling with trash and yellow leaves.
I am like that grand piano we found one night on Willoughby
that someone had smashed and somehow heaved through an open window.
And you might think by this I mean I’m broken or abandoned, or unloved.
Truth is, I don’t know exactly what I am,
Any more than the wreckage in the alley knows it’s a piano,
filling with trash and yellow leaves.
Maybe I’m all that’s left of what I was.
But touching me, I know, you are the good
breeze blowing across its rusted strings.
But touching me, I know, you are the good
breeze blowing across its rusted strings.
What would you call that feeling when the wood,
even with its cracked harp, starts to sing?
-Thorn♥
even with its cracked harp, starts to sing?
-Patrick Phillips
-Thorn♥
Tuesday, February 19, 2013
H.P. Lovecraft: "Searchers after horror haunt strange, far places."
Sorry I haven't posted in a while, school sucks! :/ It keeps me away from everything important... like my computer... Anyway, I told you I liked creepy stuff so I figured I'd give you some creepy quotes I liked from H.P Lovecraft. He's pretty cool; he wrote around the same time as Edgar Allan Poe and they actually had a little rivalry in their time. I was actually excited to look him up because Poe is the reason I wanted to become a writer... Hence, why I write extremely gloomy stories... I feel like I've made a philosophical conclusion... Enjoy!
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"We shall see that at which dogs howl in the dark, and that at which cats prick up their ears after midnight."
"Then the shadows began to gather, first little furtive ones under the table, and then bolder ones in the dark paneled corners."
-The Strange High House in the Mist
“The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown”
-Supernatural Horror in Literature
"The process of delving into the black abyss is to me the keenest form of fascination."
"I have seen beyond the bounds of infinity and drawn down daemons from the stars... I have harnessed the shadows that stride from world to world to sow death and madness..."
-From Beyond
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"Searchers after horror haunt strange, far places."
-The Picture in the House
"In London there is a man who screams when the church bells ring."
-The Descendant
"That is not dead which can eternal lie,
And with strange aeons even death may die."
-The Call of Cthulhu
-Thorn♥
Sunday, February 17, 2013
I began to think to myself...
I began to think to myself...
almost everyone I know or don't know
smokes, drinks, does illegal drugs, has under-aged sex...
I wondered why
Some people do it to be rebellious
Some want to be different
Some are afraid of conformation
but when you think about it...
They are conforming....because every one is doing it
So many teens use alcohol or weed to have fun
but then I think
how is that fun?
Unaware of what you actions are to be
"I am aware" they say
or "I know not to do that much"
then they do go over their limit
Why is it so fun to be out of your right mind?
Why is it so fun to not remember what happened yesterday?
I want to remember what happened yesterday.
I want to treasure my memories.
To much of us want to grow up too fast
and too much of us think of maturing as the wrong thing
Drinking doesn't make you mature.
Smoking doesn't make you mature.
Having sex doesn't make you mature.
Drinking doesn't gain you respect.
Smoking doesn't gain you respect.
Having sex doesn't gain you respect.
It does the opposite.
Teens take advantage of sex
Teens try to grow up so fast
Sex doesn't make you older
If it did
Rape and Molest victims would age faster
but they don't
I should know
no one takes these things seriously
Smoking
Drinking
Illegal drugs
'Legal' drugs
Under aged sex
Put these 5 rocks down and pick up 5 flowers
You don't have to be addicted to weed - be addicted to animals - cats, dogs, birds, horses
You don't have to be addicted to vodka - be addicted to cooking - spaghetti, chocolate cake, cookies
You don't have to be addicted to meth - be addicted to drawing - painting, creating, art
You don't have to be addicted to tobacco - be addicted to singing - play an instrument too
You don't have to be addicted to sex - be addicted to fashion
Parents, teachers, adults say that we can be whatever we want to be when we put out minds to it.
Well...we can't do that if we're high or drunk or working the streets can we?
almost everyone I know or don't know
smokes, drinks, does illegal drugs, has under-aged sex...
I wondered why
Some people do it to be rebellious
Some want to be different
Some are afraid of conformation
but when you think about it...
They are conforming....because every one is doing it
So many teens use alcohol or weed to have fun
but then I think
how is that fun?
Unaware of what you actions are to be
"I am aware" they say
or "I know not to do that much"
then they do go over their limit
Why is it so fun to be out of your right mind?
Why is it so fun to not remember what happened yesterday?
I want to remember what happened yesterday.
I want to treasure my memories.
To much of us want to grow up too fast
and too much of us think of maturing as the wrong thing
Drinking doesn't make you mature.
Smoking doesn't make you mature.
Having sex doesn't make you mature.
Drinking doesn't gain you respect.
Smoking doesn't gain you respect.
Having sex doesn't gain you respect.
It does the opposite.
Teens take advantage of sex
Teens try to grow up so fast
Sex doesn't make you older
If it did
Rape and Molest victims would age faster
but they don't
I should know
no one takes these things seriously
Smoking
Drinking
Illegal drugs
'Legal' drugs
Under aged sex
Put these 5 rocks down and pick up 5 flowers
You don't have to be addicted to weed - be addicted to animals - cats, dogs, birds, horses
You don't have to be addicted to vodka - be addicted to cooking - spaghetti, chocolate cake, cookies
You don't have to be addicted to meth - be addicted to drawing - painting, creating, art
You don't have to be addicted to tobacco - be addicted to singing - play an instrument too
You don't have to be addicted to sex - be addicted to fashion
Parents, teachers, adults say that we can be whatever we want to be when we put out minds to it.
Well...we can't do that if we're high or drunk or working the streets can we?
---
Crimson Rose
Sunday, February 10, 2013
Pear Tree
Silver dust
lifted from the earth,
higher than my arms reach,
you have mounted,
O silver,
higher than my arms reach
you front us with great mass;
no flower ever opened
so staunch a white leaf,
no flower ever parted silver
from such rare silver;
O white pear,
your flower-tufts
thick on the branch
bring summer and ripe fruits
in their purple hearts.
- Hilda Doolittle
lifted from the earth,
higher than my arms reach,
you have mounted,
O silver,
higher than my arms reach
you front us with great mass;
no flower ever opened
so staunch a white leaf,
no flower ever parted silver
from such rare silver;
O white pear,
your flower-tufts
thick on the branch
bring summer and ripe fruits
in their purple hearts.
- Hilda Doolittle
Tuesday, January 22, 2013
Disappear - Christina Li Link
Click to Listen
Also; Madison Ziegler's beautiful dance to this song---> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TOqhmlEKLL4
Also; Madison Ziegler's beautiful dance to this song---> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TOqhmlEKLL4
DiSaPpEaR - cHrIsTiNa Li
I think im drowning
but I dont know where
the air is, or which direction
to go
And this pain inmy chest
it still there, it wont
ever let me rest
Please get me out of here
So I can disappear
from the life im leading
dont think they'll be
needing me anymore
I'm running faster but
I dont know, if its
something from the
ghosts of old
And this pain in my chest
its still there, it'll
never let me rest
Oh-Woah
Please let me rest
Please get me
out of here
So I can disappear
from the life im leading
dont think they'll be
needing me anymore
So I am going now
to a home that will keep
greeting me no matter
what they know
And so I'm going now
to a home that will keep
greeting me know matter
what they know and so
I'm gone
Dont care if the're waiting
im happy drifting away
Dont care if they're crying
This waters just like air
Tuesday, January 8, 2013
It happens like this.
It’s the middle of the night. All would be quiet, for the world is sleeping, if not for the ticking of the clock and the whirlwind of thoughts in your head. Here, in this dark solitude, there is nothing to protect you from yourself. You try to stop the growing storm within you, but it is too late. It is growing on its own now, building on itself, beyond your control, so that finally you must stop fighting it, and it comes. Bursting from your innermost self, the truth you smother so easily in your everyday life is set free once again by the darkness you cannot escape. Always when you least expect it, when you think you have left it behind, it returns, for this demon is within, and cannot be outrun. Your very soul pours out before you, pooling around you, and your tears join it. Only when there is nothing left does the darkness have mercy, and you pass once again into a dreamless sleep. The clock ticks on.
It’s the middle of the night. All would be quiet, for the world is sleeping, if not for the ticking of the clock and the whirlwind of thoughts in your head. Here, in this dark solitude, there is nothing to protect you from yourself. You try to stop the growing storm within you, but it is too late. It is growing on its own now, building on itself, beyond your control, so that finally you must stop fighting it, and it comes. Bursting from your innermost self, the truth you smother so easily in your everyday life is set free once again by the darkness you cannot escape. Always when you least expect it, when you think you have left it behind, it returns, for this demon is within, and cannot be outrun. Your very soul pours out before you, pooling around you, and your tears join it. Only when there is nothing left does the darkness have mercy, and you pass once again into a dreamless sleep. The clock ticks on.
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