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don't tear me down . . .
make my heart a better place
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3rd-Oct-2011 10:56 pm - Just a Rant

There’s corruption in the evolution

that mankind created as a revolution

from all things au natural.

It’s one thing to make a living

and another to keep an old man baffling

at the miracles of the new technical ways.

Wouldn’t we all be dead,

if there hadn’t been the idea in someone’s head

that survival of the fittest just wasn’t good enough.

So now what’s left?

A world of Seven billion people, half of which can’t fend, and the rest?

Won’t give up a single penny.

We create a world of value -

it’s always the same issue,

one continues to fight for equality and dies trying.

Is this God’s final warning

that  if human ingenuity continues to keep forming,

well, we’ll all be screwed?

3rd-Oct-2011 10:55 pm - Happy Birthday: 7 Years Later

There was the black glove,

there were the hopscotch squares,

there was the red rubber ball,

there was the crisp autumn air.


There were the cheerful yells,

there were kids playing tag,

there were the loud frustrated whistles,

there were the poor discarded school bags.


There were the healthy sandwiches,

there were the sugary snacks,

there were the animated conversations,

and there were the clever comebacks.


There were the daily gruesome arguments,

there was the lovable reconciliation,

there were the friendship bracelets, 

there were the beautiful initiations. 


There was the constant tattling,

there was the priceless look of victory,

there was the mean principal’s office,

and there were the afternoons of misery.


Then, it was the last day,

There were the hugs and the tears,

there was the celebrations and the cameras,

there was the promise that we’d meet after a few years.


After a few years, we’re still together,

it was the black glove that made sure we stayed warm,

through the laughs, the serious talks, and the fatal bicker,

we found a friend who would conform.


July 14th, 2011

3rd-Oct-2011 10:53 pm(no subject)




Didn’t, didn’t, didn’t.

I woke up that morning


regret, regret, regret.

3rd-Oct-2011 10:52 pm - Anything to Save My Baby

An innocent twinkle,

in the gleam of his eyes was all it took

for me to give up my world

to save him.

He was my creation;

he was my savior.

He brightened my day

even when the darkest clouds

filled my mind.

It was his little tuft of hair

on the top of his head;

black and soft,

that I’ll miss the most.

It was the way his petit fists covered

his mouth

when he yawned;

A signal for me

to let him be.

I memorized his face,

every freckle and spot that made him


The black and white picture

didn’t do him justice.

I had to save him.

October 3rd, 2011
3rd-Oct-2011 10:51 pm - Lost

She smiles at the very thought

of actually telling someone

how she feels.

But how can she not?

How does she explain to them,

that she is just as


as the rest of them.

3rd-Oct-2011 10:51 pm - It Marks Her

She hides it all underneath her sleeve;

tucked away safely from prying eyes.

3rd-Oct-2011 10:51 pm(no subject)

I can’t help but hope.

22nd-Jun-2011 02:57 pm(no subject)

You know your life sucks when you have to ask your heart to stop hurting.

Hate to Remember//



Note: Not based on any events that have taken place in my life; don't judge.

Dedication: This story, although emo/very/slightly depressing, is dedicated to MD. One day, D! Yay! Happy Early Birthday to one of my lovely best friends. ♥

Sorry if it depresses you, I hope you like it. (:


It’s been too long.

You’ve grown a few inches and I’ve grown none. You obviously haven’t gotten a haircut in what seems like a year; your hair long and shaggy, hiding your deep brown eyes. You see me, smile and ask how summer went. Fine, thanks, and you?  I ask. You don’t elaborate much; you never have, it’s just your nature. When you’re finished you tell me that you need to go, but that you’ll see me around.

I get it. You always go.

- - - - -

The next time I see you is in South Hall. You’re walking down the only staircase there (the school really needs more staircases…) and laughing at something one of your friends said. I love it when you laugh; there’s always something about that pure joy on your face that gets me.

I’ve missed you. It’s been about three weeks; we’ve got different lunch periods, no classes together.

You see me, smile, wave, what’s up?, and then inform me that you’ve got your next class and you’re super busy, but you’ll catch me later.

I know. You always catch me later.

- - - - -

It’s been a month, now. I’ve thought about you occasionally. Not always.

This is a good sign. A wonderful one, according to my best friend. I see you playing soccer. You were always good at soccer. You made fun of me the only time that I tried to; you said all my goals were flukes.

You see me. I predict you’ll give me that handsome smile, wave that hand that would fit perfectly in my own, and then move those soft lips that could be on mine. Could.

I wonder if I should consider becoming a fortune teller.

- - - - -

Shockingly, it’s only been a week. I see you in the library. You’re next to her, sitting on the windowsill, just talking. I don’t know her name; I’ve never seen her before. She’s pretty, I decide. I’m fairly sure you’ve decided that as well.

Then you look up, but you don’t catch my eye. It’s her that has caught your eye, only her.

You move in closer to her, and I feel my world moving in on me. Your lips—they collapse on hers. It’s a sweet kiss. She presses her lips against yours, and then you place your hand, the one that would fit perfectly in mine, on her cheek.

I’m fairly sure that you’re both wondering what that deafening thump thump is. It’s my heart, taking its final beats before it shatters.

I wonder if you love her. As I watch you kiss her, I remember what it was like to have you do that to me.

I hate to remember. It means I’m not forgetting, even though you obviously are.


Final Notes: As I said before, this was not based on anything that happened in my life. It was more of inspired by someone close to me. Also, it is inspired by the song Come On Get Higher by: Matt Nathanson.

13th-Jun-2011 07:55 pm - The Canadian Flag


A year for red and white.                               

Red for the blood that once was shed

Red for the poppies that bloomed, 

Red for the tense ties with our allies

who without us, would have been doomed.

Red for the celebrations

and red for the flush of our cheeks

Red for the crimson roses

that were lined street after street.

Red for the teary eyes,

of those who still remember,

and red for the sweet smiling faces,

of our newest family members.



A year for red and white.

White for the skin that healed.

White for the spotlights of fame,

White for the cold fresh snow

which cooled us before the flame. 

White for the panels of each home. 

and white for the peace that once was tainted,

White for the fresh new canvas,

of a country still waiting to be painted.

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