Muzica-chan

It's on the left, fourteen doors down You can show yourself out It's not that I don't want you Not saying that I do I just can see through you And it makes me sort of blue Teehee Haha I rhyme~ Something, something time! Sarcasm, spite, cynical dismissal I'm waving goodbye eagerly~ I can see that you're sick of me! Here is your invitation to leave! Because just because you don't say it Doesn't mean it isn't said Because just because you can't voice it Doesn't mean I don't hear it Loud and clearly captain! Your half hidden bitchiness isn't missed It has been noted with vague interest I just can't really seem to give a shit

The attention whore with a white and black mask Dramatics they're her version of antics "Just jump" she says it to herself Just a bore Once again: Attention whore Don't care Screaming endlessly With just a spider in her hair She should get stoned Not high bashed with stones Preferably until she dies No one needs to know or make it to be a show We've covered this before She's an attention whore Nothing less, maybe more

I am the attention whore That goes ignored I am the stupid little slut Too shy to show enough I need your approval Disapproval Amusement Disgust Lust Anything Just so long as you look at me I am the attention whore Sitting in the corner I am the dramatic slut Quiet enough to be forgotten I need your hands against me Pushing away from me Holding me Hitting me Teasing Anything Just so long as you touch me I am the attention whore Best left ignored I am the stupid little slut Too shy to say my part I need your everything Something Anything Please Baby Just give it to me I am the attention whore Waiting for you b

Hands wrapped tight around his throat The two freeze She breathes harshly He stares calmly They both know that if she got the chance He'd be dead She'd be free They'd be over Neither of them is more afraid Than her because He can just walk And she'll crawl His condescending smile sends her over the edge Towards murder Towards freedom Towards insanity He scream mocking at her when her eyes close Wakes her when she rests Taunts her ever breath And wishes for her death Or maybe it is her wishing and hurting him They can't tell We don't know No one cares Since before anyone had eyes to see They've been dancing Trying des

This December I finally saw my father For the first time in three years Some of you You've got to be asking "How? Hasn't he always been here?" I can't say Sometimes it is only his face Other times it is my father Watching over me I don't always know Is it him or his monster? Has the angry drunk come back Overshadowing the hopeless romantic? Maybe this is Could just be my way of coping Simply disassociating this constant rage Possibly nothing Since he functions without meds He obviously isn't sick enough to cage I can't say It's just not his gaze My father doesn't judge me He believes in me But I don't always know Will

That was the end of it. We had finally struck out. There was no easy way out this time. Our food supply had vanished completely without our usual aid of meat. None of the trees were familiar, so I had no luck in making a bow. We didn't know any of the local plants to forage. Thaddeus failed horribly at hunting solo. We were simply going to starve. "I don't want to starve," I whined to Fallen, who laughed openly at my worry. Glaring, I snatched a twig off of a tree and threw it, rather lamely, at him. "It's not funny! We're going to starve to death, and then what will become of my beautiful hips!? They will wither and fade!" When Fallen la

Salpalmat is more than just our family name. It is our species, our blood, and our pride. On the surface, we look no different than most humans, though one blood line can vary from alabaster skin to dark brown. Our bodies have the same shape and many similar functions, as well as herbivore dietary needs. Despite this, we are very different. Our kind is tied intimately to stones in an unbreakable way. From birth, each of us has a stone that holds our soul separately from our body. Upon entering the world, it is nestled in our belly buttons, but as we age, it grows and changes to reflect us. For some, this means nothing more than hue variatio

Tied where you left me I haven't moved, mon ami I'm right where you put me So where could you be? Take me by the hand Show me the lay of the land Sit me by a tree Bind my arms behind me I'm right where you left me I am waiting for you to come see I'm right where you sat me So where could you be? Cradle my face, touch my cheek Tell me not to speak Leave me by a tree Don't even glance back to me Lingering where you left me Just like a pretty little dolly I'm exactly where you set me So where could you be? Laugh at my simple mistake Teach me real from fake Then bind me to a tree And just abandon me I'm exactly where you l