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Writing Mad

Hidden 8 yrs ago → 8 yrs ago Post by Song Book
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Writing Mad


The random poems, stories and quotes by a mad woman.



But aren't we all.

Feel free to comment on my work. Half of the time I'm eriting I'm either depressed, sick and generally incapascated else where. Or really fudging creative.
Hidden 8 yrs ago → 8 yrs ago Post by Song Book
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I'm Fine


The phrase, I’m fine,
is so transparent yet true.
It puts up a glass wall,
anyone can see thought.
Yet breaking that wall down,
will send shards both ways.
Don’t break the glass
they cry screaming,
“I’m Fine”
“I’m Fine”

What more could they want,
It signed in red,
Problems deeps down inside,
Stop explaining,
They aren’t listening,
but ready to talk,
put in their own thoughts,
to situations not theirs.
“I’m Fine”
puts up a wall,
to hide behind.
Which is just fine,
for the broken inside.
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"New problems, new faces. Old problems new faces. Faking likelyness of our friends and family. To gain trust in this everlasting race against death. "
- unknowm
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"That which holds you back is just an endless fulfillment of opposition, which fuels the passion to be free."
- J.N
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"Wait! Hold it! You can see me?"
- to the invisible.
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"I could never believe I'm beautiful, smart, funny or even lovable."
"I could never believe I'm handsome, smart, funny or worth it."

Why? Because by believing those things will raise my self estem just to drop by the first insult.

I'd rather live in hellish ignorance of my good qualities than be broken into peice by something shattering them.
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Why is a pinecone like a pineapple?
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Emotions

Grief.
Something which I
Can't relate.
Can't empathize.
Or help acomadate.

Love.
Something which,
I show to little
Or to much.
What is enough?

Depression.
Something which,
That always finds.
Yet behind a mask,
I hide mine.

Do I truely feel,
The same emotions.
Or am I broken there
As I am everywhere?

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Hidden 8 yrs ago → 4 yrs ago Post by Song Book
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Place holder
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Falling.


We all fall in the end.
The most loved supers turn evil.
The sweetest fruits still rot.
Once brightly lit caverns now weekly put out a shot.
In the dark where no body is watching.

This Rabbit hole is broken,
it really has never been fixed.
The passageway to wonderland is somewhere in the mist.
Yet we are still here.
Floating, falling, pretending,
that we haven't seen that branch three times now,
wait there it is again.

Hateful Queens and headless kings,
She's screaming from the door.
That the deeds that I've done
make me deserve what I get & more.
The hatchet prepares it self to swing.
I can't watch a deheading.

Yet we all fall near the end.
No reason not to watch someone hit the ground,
See its not about how you fall,
It's how you land.
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Bus Too Somewhere.

Tick, tick tick.
Goes some guys watch
As we pass by the
Trees, the dirt, and the rust.
We are all from different places,
Yet they all turned to dust
A hardly forsaken astronaut,
And a boy who ran away.
A model who can't take it anymore
And a few who won't say.

A firefighter says he,
Won't watch anything else burn.
The policemans fighting discrimination from his own turf.
A city kid, a baker.
And the waitress from down the way.
They don't where they're going.
So they joined this parade.

We are all going somewhere,
That somewhere, we don't know.
But we all got on this bus.
So we must have something to show.
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Always there.
Always watching.
Never noticed.
Never fighting.
Knows the troubles.
Feels the pain.
Won't say a thing.
It's all in vain.
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Girl in Red.

At first thought,
She was just a ghost.
High heeled boots.
No noise in the dust.
Blended into the crowd.
Nothing new to see.
A plain old girl,
To you and me.

Yet He knew what was up.
With this girl,
Covered in red.
Started playing mind games.
To get in her head.
Less did he know.
He scared it away.
The voices that bothered her
In every way.

We he finnaly got bored.
She wished he'd come back.
Keep on taunting her
Or flirting,
Wait. What's that.

He had realised that red
wasn't color or paint.
The dried blood of those
Who had Failed
To start her fate.

Though once again,
To you and to me.
She was just a girl,
No need to be freaked.
Always alone,
Judged before seen.
She doesn't care.
She's wishing for the man.
Who made us disipear

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Shhhh not a failed - to me at least.- fake contest entry which I'm not sending out. Not at all. I have something better planned. If only I can have more idea's
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I'm Sorry.

I'm sorry I am not always the same.
I'm sorry I do not feel your grief.
I'm sorry I can't help with your pain.
I'm sorry I try to hard to be nice.
I'm sorry I will act annoying.
I'm sorry I was born this way.
I'm sorry I can't do enough for you.
I'm sorry I am a terrible friend.
I'm sorry I am out of my mind half the time.
Im sorry for being bitchy when I shouldn't be.
I'm sorry that there are days I feel severly depressed.
I'm sorry I can't let you help.
I'm sorry I don't let you in.
I'm sorry from being so much of a hassle.

I'm not sorry, this is me, not what you want me to be.
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Hidden 8 yrs ago → 7 yrs ago Post by Song Book
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Flashing warning lights.
Don't you think,
they make the best nightlights.
Bow fell on the floor.
Not my fault.
I keep my demons floating high. Entire way around,
I found my ghost on the other side. Platform 9 and a 1/2 missed my train on the way so I'll jump on another one to take me somewhere new.
Don't you see the figures too. Standing and taunting,
nothing is more relaxing.
It's not safe for someone,
to be out this late at night. Witching hour they say but
I say it's the morning night.
Watch your hands,
touching ice burns.
Wouldn't want that to happen,
Bring harm to this pretty little face,
Would we?
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I think not for splendor or gain,
Nor for the spoils of war.

I fight afloat on an effortless wave,
Fed fabrication as nutrients.

Taught principles kin to,
As not to figet near flame.

Stocked on shelves for the masses.
I refuse to buy.

Least in the light,
Shall I spit out the spoon.
To attack that which put it there.

I fight not for splendor or gain,
Nor the spoils of war.
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Hidden 8 yrs ago Post by masterwriter234
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masterwriter234 The dimension jumping shapeshifter

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Very curious Cole ton of writings you have here. Cool!
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Hidden 7 yrs ago → 7 yrs ago Post by Song Book
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She smelled of the forest. Pine bark and leaves. Smoke filled eyes hazily gazing around the slowly crowding tavern. Covered up by ashen fur and heavy woolen garments. Soft plumes of greyed blonde curled infront of her face.

[center]
Анна


Maybe it was worse for her as loud noises always made her uncomfortable. Such as when the door bursted open to reveal creature in colors she had only seen on the clothing sold in stores and spilled blood. @Varicke Probably before the creature could spot her she was under the table once more.

From her spot she muttered to her self some encouraging words. Peaking at the creature before revising her seat. Instantly feeling eyes upon her in which she searched the tavern for.
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