SeasonsI'm sorry summer
For blaming you for all of my depressing thoughts.
I'm sorry autumn
For thinking of you as the time where love shoved a dagger up my tainted heart.
I'm sorry winter
For spending all of your bittersweet kindness.
I'm sorry spring
For letting my insanity creep in whilst you were reborn in 2014.
JusticeThere's always a hero to counter the villain
And the villain is always put down whilst the hero gets praise
So why are people supporting me?
Dancing In The FlamesEverything I've ever said & done comes to haunt me
In the presence of memory
And I don't know how to rip its throat out so it can't scream into my ears any longer.
I know I keep saying that I won't regret anything
I claim that I'm strong,
That I won't bow down to any being because I'm 'independent';
What's that ever done for me?
It just reminds me that I'm a liar
That words I speak are laced with poison,
But death only comes for me-
Never to leave.
Why do you think I'm calling myself 'Shinigami'?
I mean damn, all this bad luck's following me!
Maybe I should stop wandering into the dark
Where no one can save me
Where my cries can't be heard.
But bad habits die hard
Plummeting to the ground like a crashing airplane
And I tell myself that the place where I die is my true home
A sanctuary that can't be tempered;
And I believe it.
I'm twirling around in pure fire
Though I hate the way my body radiates like a fucking nuclear plant
I guess that this place is fue
Purple SkiesCutting my nails with my left hand
The shapes are ever so crude
In a way that I can't fight.
Scraping my legs with a blade-
Shearing never felt so demeaning,
For etiquette among ladies
Is to lose ourselves within the essence of natural beauty.
Staring straight at the mirror,
I just see scars
From head to toe
That'll never disappear.
Brushing my tangled hair
Strands flutter to the carpet
Split ends running about the bird nest atop my head;
Whilst I hope that all of this torture will reward me with love from the opposite sex.
PoetWe're often overlooked
We're called the outcasts,
The strange & lame
We're given titles that we can't stand;
Others think of us as losers who'll never get laid
As the ones who can't build our way to the top.
Well you know what?
We're the ones who can morph the world with words
We can shatter & mend hearts with simple keystrokes
We're goddamn artists, for fuck's sake.
We know how to entwine emotion into the text that we bleed for
We carry the knowledge necessary to either destroy or fix our society
We can manipulate your way of thinking forever.
We're the ones who die for someone we love
We're the ones who are treated like ragdolls by people we thought we could trust
We're the ones who have our state of mind fractured for all eternity.
We scream our lungs out,
Bellowing words nobody wants to hear
But they all know that it's true.
So tell us,
What do we poets mean to the rest of you lot again?
you're amazing! | nishinoya yuu
“I forgot what's it called,” Nishinoya mumbles as he ties the braclet around your wrist. You watch him silently as you sat down on the hard cement floor, your legs crossed. The boy upon you was struggling to tie the bracelet, and even though you offered your help, he shook his head and refused, and told you that it was his gift to you. Therefore, he was going to be the one to tie it. You weren't really sure why he was giving you a present, or what you did to receive a present, but you only kept quiet. “I think it was a promise bracelet or something. Friendship bracelet? Heh. I don't know.” He says, laughing a bit.
“Oh.” After a few knots here and there, Nishinoya finally finished tying the bracelet around your wrist. You brought it near to your face, turning it around to observe it. He must have been very proud of himself considering the smile on his face wouldn't go away. Then again, Nishinoya was always energetic and smil
Could Never Be You (Reader x Any Guy)It was amazing really, feeling close to him like you did. He was becoming a best friend to you and that was something you needed. What you didn’t need was to fall for him; a guy that you knew you couldn’t have. It wasn’t because you were insecure or having a lack of self-confidence, it was more along the lines of the fact that he was interested in your best girlfriend.
You couldn’t help but squirm when his lovely eyes left you for her as she came to sit down at the table. Couldn’t help but become sad when he would hug her and not you. You would never tell him though; especially how much you liked him and enjoyed the fact that he made you smile.
He wasn’t yours, no matter what you did: wear the prettiest clothes, the nicest makeup- it was all for him, but when she was around you were just another shadow. He still spoke to you, but his attention was on her, eyes watching to see if she enjoyed his jokes. Each time she mentioned a type of guy she was in
heavy chest. dying treasure.I found the place where she died the first time (they say we all die twice).
There were no ropes or razors or jewels of blood but I know she died there, because the apples were all mourning. I went to gather her belongings from the house and everything looked so normal at first. I don’t know what I expected. Suicide notes scrawled on the walls despite them saying she hadn’t left any, cracked light bulbs; the glass shattered like her heart, split-seamed cushions to match her broken veins, pools of tears in the ashtrays? I didn’t know this was what I expected until I noticed their glaring absence. My god someone had even bleached the toilet recently. Was it her? Did she look at the bleach and consider drinking it? I wanted to tell myself there was a smell of despair. That I found a single strand of her hair and cried over it. That the cushions still had the imprints of her elbows in them and the saucepan handles were still warm from her touch. But there was no sign of h