venusprincess

You suck in chemicals Smoke With a poignant stench And your hands tremble While I breathe in air Clear I'm not scared of the world like you I don't want to be numb To the sounds Harsh and soft I don't want that rose colored vision You inhaled with a slight desperation And blew out in smoke rings that got tangled in your hair Lingering for hours on your frayed flannel shirt Do you think they'll go away? The skeletons in your closet If you just cloud your mind enough This toxic runaway Won't rid their pounding on your door at night So then... Breathe Truly And exhale the fear

Somehow I blend when I mean to be bold And loud when I meant to be silent My timing is awful But my patience is thick Waiting for the right moment That might never come

They tried to make a blueprint of her Detailed shapes Drawn with rulers and measuring tape Filled in with pastels soft Sweet and meek Beautiful but, It was never quite right Color bled over the lines Blurring bold and bright Into a lovely, Lovely loud shape

The facts seep in Deep into your mind A wakeup call To the wrong The terrible So atrocious Enough to make you scream And you can't do much but scream Till you realize A scream is strong And a voice is Power Use it.

She sat in the corner With a cup and a frown Watching them wither Under the flashes and sounds

He was always smashing into doors. The kid across the street. Always running or power walking Too fast, too oblivious To see the obstructions in his way (Sometimes it was parked cars) I'd see him smack into poles When I glanced out my window His friends would laugh Their amused sounds traveling into my room I laughed with them Snickering into my curtains He'd laugh too, rubbing his head Slapping him on his back, joking They'd walk away together I'd watch them disappear around the corner Away from me and my window

That rotting stench That travels down your throat and gags you Winces and pinches of the nose, But it’s still there... Stinking Of spoiled dreams and expired opportunities Lost goals Lay forgotten Out of the way in that heap. I don’t know how he did it. Grabbing onto junk and cracked things Old and awful Stained with regret, But he piled them on anyway Stacking Building A palace.

The sentence launched out of her mouth Aiming for the head, But missed And hit the wall instead.                                                                  She waited for the bombs                                                                           The accusations                                                                              The BIG hit… Trailing the sentence came hushed words That didn't make it very far The letters fell      by       , shortening te wor til                 one      one So the meaning dropped away too Leaving the last few syllables spilling from her lips Nothing but empty mur

It's a common misconception that the loudness you hear from music, the kind that beats your eardrums and vibrates through the speakers and down your body, remains in simple hertz. Loud also takes on the form of girls clothed in hot pink dresses with electric blue bangs, who grab attention simply by walking into a room. Loud is the courage of that one kid who stands up to the bully when everyone else backs down. It is the spirit of the protestor. Loud happens in penstrokes; words from authors and journalists shouting truth in their works. Loud can even occur in silence because refusing to speak speaks volume. Loud is making a statement t

Dear Lisa, Will you please stop piling on that awful red lipstick. It makes your teeth look yellow and you don't even apply it right! I suggest a nice pale pink gloss. Like the one your friend with the rose hair clips has? Try it. By the way, trash your blue eyeshadow. You can't go walking around school looking like some clown if you're really intent on wooing that Tyson guy you're always gushing about. Love, Your Mirror ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Dear Mike, If you put anymore gel in your hair, it'll never move again. Ever. Even when you want to go for that wind-swept beach