Writing

All this pain just inside...I cannot let it go.... It hurts so bad...Seeing the one you love in the arms of another.... Each night I cry myself to sleep,just hopeing the next day will be even beter...But these words always run through my mind..."You're going to die alone".. It repetes and repetes...Pain ... Oh how it hurts so... But what makes it worse...That someone that's with the one my love ...is my rival....Time has stopped to you as your tears run down slowly on my cheek.... I've lost almost everyone in my life... It's even scary just trying to be myself....They say if you keep your feelings jared up...you'll snap... That's haven't happened to me yet... And hope it will never will. Don't keep your feelings jared up... Or one day you'll snap

"Now who's gonna take care of Mike!" Jane screamed at the top of her voice. "Now how am I suppose to marry Dave! Now how am I suppose to become an archaeologist!" "Mike, marriage, archaeology?!" I said, confused. "Oh, I can't explain now! I just wish I listened to David." She sighed. "Don't beat yourself up. David has the gift, you can still talk to him." She forced a smile. "Gift?" Dave whispered as he entered the room. "More like a curse." "David, i'm so sorry I didn't listen! But I just never thought-" "Save it." He butted in. "Everyone I've ever loved ends up dead. I should have seen it coming." "But you did! You tried to save my life and I was to stupid and selfish to care." "Janet." He sighed. "I don't think I can talk to you anymore. Never again." She stared at him, her face appalled. "What are you saying?!" "I'm saying seeing you, like this, it just, it just breaks my heart."

I loved to write songs. These beautiful poems of love, heartbreak, life and misery. I still do. Shame they'll never reach the world as I hoped.
But, life is life and death is well, death. I wish I could still play with Eyes Of The Wolf, my old band. I remember the lullaby I wrote for Jannet when she had nightmares.


'Prr, Prr
Of the Cat on the mat so peaceful
Cheep, Cheep
Of the Bird in the garden so alive
Neigh, Neigh
Of the Horse on the racecourse so swift
Woof, Woof
Of the Pup in the tulips so playful
But now please my dear Jannet rest
So tomorrow you take life's next test'



I still sing it to her every night. But she can't hear me now. Maybe i'm just not singing loud enough. Sometimes she hears me sing a few lines. I know because sometimes when I sing she'll start crying. I don't know why. Maybe she misses me. Or maybe I scare her. I don't know. The world is a very strange place

This is a song inspired by Anastasia's Once Upon a December. Also, it's the main song for my novel-in-progress, Imaginary. It's a song in which one of the main characters sings to cheer her up when she's scared. And once I finally get the story posted here, you'll actually see the depth and power and horror of the song.
Written by a friend of mine from school.

Midnight settles, darkness falls
Close your eyes and remember
Fallen angels always sing
Once upon a December

Blood is flowing and it's warm,
Life's nightmares are like a storm
Demons dancing gracefully
across my memory

Broken butterflies with torn wings
The pain they will always remember
Fallen angels, I hear them sing
Once upon a December.

Scraping at the boughs,
Unknowns becomeths known,
Where shards break across my skin as my mind is shredded into nothing.
How did I get here?
How did I become this?
How do I get out?
Trapped inside a thousand mirrors,
Seeing so many façades,
Which one is me?
Carved up and bleeding,
Happy unconscious,
Pepped up to go?
Nails scratch into my brain,
As I pick apart memories,
For a clue.
An inkling.
An idea.
Lost!
I’m so lost!
Where do I fit in anymore?
Who am I?
And how did I wind up here?

I slammed the car door shut, and faced the school.

"Have a good day sweetie," Mom said, somewhat hopefully from the drivers seat. Just the words made me want to ball up and cry. She drove away, leaving me in the dust. I would not survive this day.

Not that I deserve to.

I clutched my books to my chest, and tried to keep my eyes fixed on the ground. But I still felt their eyes on me.

"Bitch," they muttered.

"She deserves to die," others said. Didn't they know I want to? Didn't they know how much strength it took to keep breathing? And when I did, it was the everlasting pain that nearly brought me to my death. But I could only hope.

But they didn't know this. They just knew it was my fault. And it was. It was all my fault for what had happened.

And I'd live with this guilt till I die.

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Please let me know if I should continue this; I don't know if I should.