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Don't Listen to Them........ Don't Listen to Them........
Their words fill my ears they hurt me, tear me down, and make me bleed
I try to hold on but my heart can't bear anymore I heard shes a lesbians
or Shes a mental patient. I live to be what people want only to be pushed
down for being “fake”. But am I any more real than the assholes who say
things behind my back and spread vicious rumors about the people they
I've asked countless times what to do about these words that I hear and
all anyone ever says don't listen to them. How do I stop? I want to know....
how to block their voices out. How to quite the indecent murmurs and
untrue things I want them to go away, but in order to get rid of them I'd
have to sacrifice some of the wonderfully wacky things that make me....
me. Don't listen, Don't listen..............try to block them out...........
Fairer ShoresFairer Shores
I once had a true love who promised to be with me until the very day he entered deaths realms. Until the day the sirens call of the sea pulled him away from me, calling him away and upon the dawning of a new day he wandered away towards the sea.
I tried to swallow my qualms and tried pull him back to me but my voice small and meek did not even compete with that of the sea. Wandering away for me and my love we'd built. Only to watch the dawns light reach it's peak as he stared down the docks. I'd ran out of our house my feet quite damp as all I had upon them were my poor patched socks.
Chasing after him in the early gray light of the misty dawn I felt
as though I were a pawn in some game of fate in which I could not control myself. This was out of my hands and laced with the waves laughter and gait. With this my love turned back to me and looking up
at the mercifully clearing sky as the mist was vanishing like the ghostly tones of the winds w
I am not one whole thing that fits into what ever box you try to shove me into
I am not a statistic or a stereotype......
I am a person I live and breath but I am not one whole thing neatly put together I am pieces of so many different lifestyles and styles someone who has seen some one die. And listened to many a lie.... I am not just depressed, I'm not just a pawn in a game........
To live and be loved is all I want but how can that be when there are so many pieces of me scattered around?
Blood BrothersBrookie always holds my hand when we cross the street. She's never given a reason for it, she just does it. It's become this unspoken rule with us that whenever we cross the street together, she slips her hand in mine and I lace my fingers through hers and we walk hand-in-hand until we reach the other side and she drops her hand and we both wipe our palms on our jeans. Brookie's a little scared of crossing the street. Her poppa died in a car crash when we were six. He was a pedestrian. She's never gotten over it.
Brookie is my best friend going on sixteen years now, which is pretty impressive considering we're both sixteen. We don't have some cute little story about how we were born in the same hospital on the same day or about how our mothers were best friends long before they were pregnant with us and somehow passed on that bond while we were still in utero. No, Brookie and I met the same way ever
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A two-time Community Volunteer for the deviantART Related category, Anne is well-known as a positive, helpful force. She is the community's resident expert when it comes to CSS (Cascading Style Sheets), and her personal gallery offers a wide variety of tutorials for new and experienced coders alike. In addition, each winter she hosts a calendar project encouraging members to create Journal designs for all to use, bringing more creativity to the community.
It is with immense gratitude that we acknowledge Anne as the recipient of the Deviousness Award for October 2014. Read More