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Understand "I see you don't understand the situation."
I don't understand. I can't understand. The pain you feel for such a person. I just can't. Even I don't understand why. Even though I don't know the whole situation, yet, I can't understand why.
"She's the first person I've opened up my heart to in such a long time."
She betrayed you. Threw you away like trash. You said this yourself and you still are loyal to her. Loyal to such a person. I try to understand but your logic isn't within my reach. It's frustrating but I try to understand.
I want to type the words out and send it to you, to comfort you and your broken soul. Even if it's to comfort you, to make it seem like there is someone out there in your reach, to understand you I can't lie in such a situation.
"Rest in peace"
Or at least,
what we all think it means.
How may I rest, six feet under;
in a tomb?
Alone and cold, in soiled womb?
They said, after death,
"You have nothing to worry."
"Reside in purgatory"
Why bury me in damp grave?
So far away from heavens gates?
I feel the warmth, know it well.
Another half inch, I'd burn in hell.
But in this shell, lifeless; sedated.
Ironic you wanted me cremated.
Is this wrong? Or is this right?
jokes on me I guess that's life.
At least for some,
"Reveal in Paradise"
Silence ConsumesI can distinctively describe our first meeting. It was a cold rainy day, clouds hiding the sun, showing a gray tainted color on the earth. Nothing could have been less surprising from the city of Seattle. Standing near a bus stop in front of Starbucks, you could see the difference between Seattle folk and tourists. When it rained, we let the droplets touch our skin, letting it wash away our sentimental worries. Tourists on the other hand, panic like ants, holding an umbrella close to their skull so not one drop would ruin their sweaters. Seeing this always makes me laugh meekly as I took a sip of my cappuccino.
Being the sixteen year old I was, I would observe my surroundings like there were a new adventure to explore. Then my eyes would fall upon a teen that looked around my age. Average short brown hair, bright blue eyes, and a tall broad figure, which made him unbearably hard to miss. Silly as it may seem, we would stand at the bus stop every day, waiting for the bus. He would be li
Why Would You? Zoe walked to class with books pressed tightly against her chest. Walking silently down the corridor with her head memorized by the wall she walked by a group of girls who grabbed her backpack and yanked her to the floor. Her butt landed on the floor with a loud "THUD".
Damn, now that's going to leave a mark.
The girls just laughed and pointed while she quickly tried picking up the books that lay scattered on the floor of the school corridor. Zoe felt the tears coming on.
Not in front of these freaks.
"What a loser."
"What a loser."
I pressed my pen against the lined paper and crossed out the sentence I had just taken three seconds of my life to write. As I sat completely uninterested by my biology teacher's lecture I had taken th
There is no place for me.There is no place for my ideals or me,
There is no place for justice or mercy.
There is no place for true love anymore,
It's a sad truth, it saddens me at the core.
There is no place for me in this world,
Where the cries of the needy must go unheard.
I'm cast out for my ideals, my gentleman's code,
Well, I was born like this, a man in hero mode.
There is no place for a hero in this world,
The knight in shining armour must go unheard.
There is no such thing as a Fairy Tale,
I am not Prince Charming, just another sail.
On a boat afloat on a sea of sadness,
The winds of mourning passing through me.
There is nowhere in this world for me...
There is nowhere in this world for gallantry.
Nine TimesI saw him nine times.
The first time we were both sitting in the room together, getting ready to take the math test that would determine our placement. I was scatterbrained and throwing things around, trying to find the pencils that I had known I would need but had still just tossed in my purse. He was lounging backwards in his chair, looking for all the world as though he didn’t have a single care in the world, including the upcoming test. It annoyed me, that I was frantic and ready to scream, while someone else could be that relaxed.
I tested out of the class.
I don’t know if he did.
The second time I saw him, it was a few months after I arrived on campus. He was the one rushing and frantic this time, running across the square. He was probably late for class, though I had no way of knowing for sure. I was already lost in my own thoughts and ideas, deciding on my major and convincing people that yes, this is what I really want to do with my life. If they weren
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