Tyath

-A List- I wrote a list On the back of my hand It told me nothing But just another chore I guess I could've Gotten a lot less out of the deal I checked the list Again in hopes of finding A greater meaning But it didn't tell me more When I looked up from my hands You laughed and proceed to help I guess the list really doesn't matter But only that you make it better -The Class- I know six-hundred odd people Three-hundred-and-eighty acquaintances Hundred-twenty classmates Forty-or-so friends Ten-and-maybe-less best friends Three, family without blood And only one is you. -A moment of you- If I can try to capture A sin

Papers and Paper Cuts How can they judge me by mere pieces of papers? And tell me that I am not worth it. And tell me they "regret" to inform me No, they cannot Judge me, They cannot Even begin to know me Fuck this change Fuck this rejection You don't mean it at all when you say you regret Shut your euphemisms But it doesn't mean It doesn't hurt The paper cuts I get From the Rejection Letters

Had she been saved, she wouldn't have been the same again, anyway. -Alternate Verses: memory loss, no gain again- Her head crashed onto the floor. The violence among the shootings shot her, and she fell to the floor. It scares him, but he can't do anything. He's crushed to the floor with her, held tightly in her arms. There was a glimmer of hope; she may be alive. A couple months pass. She is not the same lively woman, just a few months ago. Her eyes lose the shining glint that was so often a characteristic of hers. She no longer smiles as she used to, and all she can do is having a faltering expression on her face. His heart is breaking

TheSATBoy Sometimes, when things go wrong, they go wrong. And in the end, have some times satisfying or just even weirder results. Of course, the conditions of the end results are always in the eyes of the beholder. You see, that's what happened to that one dude who pretended to be a chick on-line and really ended up dating that dude that he talked to on-line. Hey, at least they were consenting. And the guy who pretended to be a chick used to be straight. Oh, the power of love. And the internet, with its army of weird people. But this story isn't about that dude who's dating another guy. Not that it's not about it either. Only that in fact

She is convinced that she is dying. There's a distinct sensation of being burned where she has been hit. It's a sharp pain, and only thing dulling it is the numbing and the cooling down of her body. She's holding the boy this entire time. She's holding his little body. Clutching him, really. There's no sense of reality; she felt that death would be more, "real". All she felt was pain – only the pain let her know that she was barely breathing. "Don't forget about me, alright? Because I care for you deeply. You must survive." She whispers to the shaking boy's ear, hoping that he won't be weak. She thinks there's water trailing down her r