SacredSorrow

Je pense, donc je suis Mais en réalité je ne vis     pas aujourd’hui. Je suis ici, je suis là, Mais j’n suis pas l’humain que tu crois     je suis ou quoi. Je pense mais j’suis une maladie Qui habite dans ce coeur détruit. Je suis seulement l’ombre d’amour Qui existent dans un corps azur. Moi, j’attends le jour Où quelqu’un donne leur vie pour Moi, qui existe, ou pas, Dans ce monde d’ici et là.

It’s fun when life’s easy, And it’s fun to be loose, But when it’s too breezy, easy and sleazy, You find that it’s yourself you lose. Cause right now, the word on the block Is ‘Yolo-swag-420-blazeit’ and shock- -er, it’s not really giving us life, This kind of thinking is just giving us strife. Cause we’re dying prematurely, death Stemming from the rest Of this breath Coming out of our bodies, With a lack of left Brain thinking, it’s a theft Of the life that’s been freely given. Jumping off bridges with no water underneath Just a nice sweet cold ground of concrete. It&rsquo

& she tries her hardest to look beautiful mountain ranges of bone and muscle down the flat incline of her stomach 'cause beauty's made of hunger and hipbones and she's got guys twined around her middle finger for a taste of agony and self-deprecation & sure, maybe ribs aren't supposed to stick out that much a grotesque cage hiding her heart mirroring the mask she wears within 'cause dizziness is nothing compared to the elation of watching the green-eyed monster at work among the other innocents, (strange how she was once one of them) hungering for hunger with a thirst for beauty weight's not a number, it's a contest of collarbones an

we're taught to drown our sorrows in guilt and despair to make ourselves feel like no one out there really cares till we resurface, gasping, struggling for air we're taught that depression's a sign of being weak and when people self harm, it's just attention that they seek and that when she's dead and gone and buried in the ground that oh, they should've saw it coming and they tell you, blame yourself for everything that you've done you messed up, so get up, your life's only begun and when we keep blaming ourselves and the tears just still run they look on like they're bored, like we're just old reruns playing on the tv's for their enter

There was a girl Who had it all Till her world Began to fall Her sunny sky Began to rain And nobody around Could feel her pain She sits in her corner And starts to shake Knowing the world Calls her fake She sits and cries Gone is her task Because the world Took away her mask

and i wish from the bottom of my rained-on broken down pitter pattering heart that i'll find someone that i hate more than myself.

fold. unfold. fold. inhale. unfold. exhale. there's a story to be told here, but aren't there stories everywhere? there's a girl in the library, folding paper cranes but nobody cares for her story, when everyday in the news there's a million stories already- teen suicide, 13. cyberbullying. a blue crane, left on top of someone's laptop at the local starbucks. school shooting. 11 dead. 11 little yellow cranes, crumpled at the edges. it doesn't bring them back. nothing'll bring them back. but they're not forgotten.

In the days of Yellorangred Ghouls and ghosts begin to tread Through the winding, breezing bellow And across the leaves of Redorangeyellow The wind is crisp; a pompous lash While nightly flashlights start to flash Screams and laughter rise up high And frightened children begin to cry Moaning mummies crawl and creep While undead zombies rise from sleep Grinning bats let their smiles shed All in the days of Yellorangred Haunted houses get kids caught In their challenge of great daunt While conclusionsinous bets are being made On the murderer of the masquerade Bowls and baskets of sitting candy Wrapped in wrappers 'oh so dandy Sit upon the w