Pain inspires

If there is one thing I have learned from the past four years, is that pain inspires me more than anything. I could never really write about love or happiness, I just normally suck at it. But pain–oh pain is the ink that fuels the rambling chaos inside my head which randomly spill onto blank pages and they make such beautiful unconventional art. So to everyone who has caused me pain or shared with me their pain, thank you so much for injecting feelings and emotions to this numb heart.

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That night, she knew she should stop hoping.

Hey little Lady

Hey little lady,
Your eyes glimmering tears
In the wake of an uncertain morning.

Hey little lady,
Clad in your fears
Treading a life of misgiving.

You think you’ve gone mad,
Unsure of your wants
Living in days of misfortune.

The world is a complicated fa├žade,
Of happy lies
Fading too soon.

Hey little lady,
Oh how well you do
The blank face that you wear.

A dark and deep tunnel
Of sinister thoughts,
Well hidden, all unaware.

Hey little lady,
Your world is but pretty,
Nothing is worthwhile.

It is all so bitter,
Of hate and of anger,
Not a hint of a smile.

Hey little lady,
Down on both knees
For an endless unanswered prayer.

Freeing a hopeless sigh
And not of relief,
Praying for someone to care.

Alone, all alone
is what you choose to know,
and no one will understand.

All the incredible chaos
Going through your head
That seem to never end.

Hey little lady,
Please see of the beauty,
Go open your eyes.

To sunshine and rainbows,
And flowers in bloom,
And a daydream of paradise.

Hey little lady,
Oh please do hang on,
Just a little bit longer.

All these in time
Will fade into memory,
A new life will uncover.

Your world will be beautiful
As you journey on,
All the ugly will someday be over.

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Hey little lady,
please wait and see
what life may have for you…

xx

DMV

(Photo courtesy: IPSY)

See

You say she is okay because she has the life you desire and yours is as miserable as fuck.

But you fail to see the truth behind the walls she puts up to shield her self from her cruel reality, high enough so no one, not even she, could penetrate through.

She masks her face with a plastic smile, wallows in apathetic laughter and puts on too much makeup to cover those bags.

Unearth it all, look beyond and maybe, just maybe, you would notice that there is a certain sadness in those tired, brown eyes. Something you would only see when you try to look closely.

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xx

DMV

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