Sneek Peek At The Void Book Two: ExileBear's claws scrabbled at the rough, crumbling rock. He clung to the face of the cliff helplessly, unable to pull himself back up. "*BENJI! Help!" He yelped as one of his back paws nearly lost its grip on the tiny ledge. "HELP!" He called again, more desperately. Finally, Benji's face appeared in place of the dark, stormy sky. "Why, hello." He said calmly, in a not-at-all Benji-ish way. "Help me up!" Bear urged. Benji studied his paws for a painfully slow heartbeat before replying, "So. You need my help for once, huh, halfbreed?" "What?!" Bear gasped, staring at him in confusion. "You heard me. You're a filthy halfblood." Benji's lip curled. "But it wouldn't do to have you die here." He gingerly extended a paw, which Bear grasped in his teeth and pulled himself up, staring at his old friend in shock. "Wh-what do you mean? I'm a pureblood!" Benji tsked. "Oh, they never told you the truth~ I supposed they did tell you that you were a pureblood, practically born a hero
Tired...I'm tired of playing these gamesI'm tired of living this lifeI'm tired of breathe, it'll all get betterBecause you lied.Its not getting better.Its getting so much worse...
Free.They're asking you to rememberJust so you can forget.I'll never bend, never bowI'm stubborn to the end.You can grovel and snivel and whine,That's just fine be me.But I will never do what they demand,Because I want to be free.
.Its funny howSome people can justBlend into a crowdYou've seen them all your lifeBut never bothered to ask their nameAnd yet we say we care for everyone?
..........I don't seeWhy people yell whatI already know About myselfAt meI knowThat I'm messyAnd that I'm not the best at everythingI was there when I knew it for myselfSo you don't haveTo tell me.
IfIf I were to love you,BlindlyWould you guide me to your heart?If I were to miss you,DeaflyWould you call for my empty ears to come?If I were to tell you,MutelyWould you hear my silent cries?If I were to hold you,UnfeelinglyWould you alwaysTell me lies?
bitter.somewhere between his gasping green eyesthere is the lip printof a woman he doesn't remember.she doesn't exist to him anymore(speck of ash in a city that she is),but she does to me.so when he comes home,I grab him by the tieandslam him to the wallandkiss himharduntil the press of my lipsdefiles the grave of a girl who oncethought he was beautiful.
Brown Eyes Compliments, and AnalogiesBecause I'm sick of people saying there aren't any.Your brown eyes are like the deep intoxication of campaign wine, bubbling with hazing richness and expensive taste.Your brown eyes are like the color of mahogany wood- comforting and home-steady toughness that lets me know you will be the beams of supporting me.Your eyes remind me of Dove chocolate, smooth, creamy, delectable, and melting.The color of brown eyes remind me of mountain terrain and nature, something subtle, but beautiful in every form and season.Brown eyes make me think of Devil's cake, taunting and tempting, curtained by black lashes, the symbol of rich seduction.When brown eyes delve in love, they become the color of a leather book, promising a story of loyalty, long-life, and devotion.Your brown eyes remind me of mysterious secrets, dark to cover the pain of ignorance, opaque to cover to want of another.Brown eyes are like the stable ground, steadier and prepared to embrace you when you fall, into a nurturing a
How to love a girl who can't love herself.one. When she cries herself to sleep six out of seven nights a week you must say nothing. You must simply take her in your arms and kiss her gaunt, pale cheeks and wait for her to slumber at the sound of your heart.two. On the days where she wishes she were part of the stars, tell her no. Tell her that there are too many lights in the sky and that just one would be forgotten the moment you looked away from it. Tell her that she is perfect the way she is: completely human.three. Don't let her think about the scars that no one but her can see. If she says "I think I'm broken" smile like you know a secret and say, "No, you're mending." But do not be the one to fix her - no, she
EmoSo what if I'm emo?So what if I cry?I'm not THAT emotional,I dont want to die.So what if I dress in a different style?There's no need to scream and run for a mileI dont like to cut and abuse my arm,I am not depressed,so why cause self harm?Could it be that I am just like you?That I can smile, giggle and laugh along too?Could it be that I am happy with myself?It's just that I am not some pretty doll on the shelf.Could it be that the only reason i dye my hair black;Is because I dont want to be some barbie in a bimbo girl pack.These are the reasons, and I'll tell you why,that I dont look in the mirror and start to cry.I know Im not perfect,I'm sure you will agreeBut I am so very positive,as positive as can beThat Im not like you,Oh dont make me laugh!I dont spend hours on my make-up's maskI'm totally self-confident,Ill smile for all to see.Because the great thing about being emo,Is that I am happy, with just being me.Dont be afraid of who you are.<
Open WoundsOpen Woundslife is but an open woundalways pouringforever drowining usnever slowingpeople are foolishto think that they can stop usbut they canteach one of us is filled with flawsgood and badwe are differentyet the sameno one can truely seewhat we seethey will never understandthe painthe sufferingthe anguishthere might be others like usbut we are alone
Yes, I Have a PenisYes, I Have A PenisDo not assume (if I hold the door for you),that I am making a statementabout your inabilitiesto open the door for yourself.If you hold it for me,I'll say 'thankyou'.Do not assume (if I pay for the meal),that I am underestimatingyour earning capacityas a woman.If you invite me out for a meal,you're paying.Do not assume (if I defend your rights),that I am belittlingthe attempts that you have madeto defend your rights yourself.If you defend my rights,I'll consider you human.
.He nestles acornsin the crookbehind my ear,crawls into my collarboneto mound pine needlesbetween myhead and heart.I hope he'llspend his nights here,secrets kept safe in me.
LesbianMy thoughts wandered back into my fourth grade mind frame.She had beautiful blonde hair and blue eyes,And a perfectly white smile that reflected the sunlight like a mirror.She was a good teacher, mmmhmmm, good to look at,And I even knew it back then,Before I knew I was a lesbian.Roses are red,Violets are blue,Ranbows are red, orange, yellow, green, blue, and purple,And so am I!My thoughts wandered back into memories of Sam, my first girlfriend.She was shorter than I was, with wavy black curls,And with hazel eyes that seemed so enchanting,And she had beautiful pale white skin, mmmhmmm, lovely girl,And I knew it then,I was a pre-teen lesbian.Roses are red,Violets are blue,Rainbows are red, orange, yellow, green, blue, and purple,And so am I!My thoughts wandered back into memories of "coming out".She came out on accident, and 'she' was me,Brave enough to accept the fact that people were noticing,But smart enough not to get myself into trouble, mmmhmmm, that's me,An
on free speechtry to write a poem about politics and it comes out treason. saychange is not the can or the street but maybe kick, or lack thereof.the President says there is no need for panic.the hero fires his rifle into the crowd hoping for applausethe hero was a quiet boy, always such a good kidsee: smiling child frozen on refrigerator doorsee: weeping mother makes plea for salvationthis American daydreamsay news exclusive, say family, or values,say where did all these bodies come from?the President says his prayers go outsay a mute god is better than none at allsay i must be lying or else not telling the whole storysay this ain’t blood it’s kool aid; at least it’s something sweetwho said anything about them? in the dream a man lines his pockets with mouthsand takes a seat, bloated, at the tablein the dream this hero calls himself Americathe President says the same old storysay here, the President is metaphor for progress. or
.I wish that I couldGo back to the timeWhen my worst worryWas not getting enough chocolate syrup on my icecreamAnd my worst fearWas the villian in a storybookBut I have come so farAndIHateMyselfForGrowingUp.