So Young And Desperate For Attention.

The world dances on your fingertips
Filled with poise and grace
You're a fallen angel
Fighting to escape the order
And the cleanliness of this world.
But you won't ever escape
Because no one ever does
At the end of the day
You're all they've ever wanted
All I've ever resented
And everything that ever made any sense.
But im only a child
Being held together by
Duct taped dreams.
And you're my fallen angel
Who only knows how to break
How to kill, and destroy
But in my eyes, you remain
Oh, so, perfect.

Im Lying To Myself, This Dagger Is An Excuse

If we would've known life was to play us such cruel hands of cards, if we had once known that things would crash and burn so quickly, would you have taken it all back, only to hold yourself together, and to avoid the most inevitable of feelings? Because I wouldn't regret a thing, I still love you even times like today.

The Weather Today Is Slightly Sarcastic

Who cares how the world remembers you? How will you remember yourself?
-Pete Wentz

A memory is simple to blur, easy to confuse, and simple to forget. To most a memory is either a tragedy or a blessing, but where is the value? A memory is usually also relative, something that changes from person to person, and remains usually only in ones mind.

I dont care about how i will be remembered because it honestly doesnt matter, now how id like to remember myself, thats harder to answer, because ive never honestly known who i am.

maybe that will answer your qestions.

Come In With Your Arms Raise

Life is ran by brand names and designer bags
and i just wish to offer something more.
i want to know more than a shallow reflection
of a stranger on a flat surface

Last Time You Will Shine

I look into a mirror, and still wonder who Ive become. I doubt if im something more, or if im just another mold of society (or for society) and then i come to realize it no longer matters.Im only a child, maybe my descicions will affect my life, but all i want to do right now is breathe. I know i wont be here forever, but why waste my time worring about the future, and resenting my past. I think im perfect, maybe not in the eyes of the world, but to myself . I am aware of my flaws, and i am in love with them. Maybe i dont, and wont ever mirror what you want to see, but ffor now im good with that.

This is all thats left of me: shallow reflections and three feet deep words.

Im NOT Okay

You can wonder how i live managing to breathe without you having to ask me to, and maybe its simply that i learned, or maybe its much more simple than that, I'm tired of falling.You still ask if things are okay, like they ever were.The worlds that separate us still loom, watching over , making sure we make no mistake of diving head first again.Maybe id like to make another mistake, maybe i just want to listen to one thing, and it sure as hell isn't reasoning.i simply wanted you to know, that I'm still here, and that I'm not okay (i promise) and i will never be, even if you return. Somethings are simply permanent.

Voice Crying For Days Now

Is everyone here make-believe?
Are the words you once spoke
Lies which seeped into reality?
Is everyone here make-believe?
Only a figment of imagination
and a fragment of desire
is everyone here make-believe?
You held all the answers
to all I never wanted to hear
is everyone here make-believe?
Can you forget for a moment
that nothing exist in the moment we live
is everyone here make-believe?
I’ve seen the twitch of lips
tempted into overpriced smiles
is everyone here make-believe?
all id ever want is proof that there’s
more to you than meets the eyes
is everyone here make-believe?
Will you sleep tonight knowing
that tomorrow this will only be a blur
because everyone here is only … make-believe.

Inspired by Mayday Parade, a band that can brign me to tears .

Cure To Growing Older

She’d sew her heart to his
So patiently, and perfectly
And dig the stitches too deep
Into the grave known as his chest
She’d take him apart
and claim him as her own
And tie them tourniquet style
Beating in unison
He would always say
it would never hurt
And she’d laugh
and say he was only a liar
she held him so tight
Strangling, and bruising his fragility
And he died so subtly
But his heart still beats
so patiently, and oh so perfectly

Speak Now or Forever Hold Your Peace (In Pieces)

High On Infinity

Whats it like to hold childrens hearts on strings
and make them dance as though they were puppets
And whats it like to own their every breath
and watch them happily slave for your body
I wish i were still one of them
Young enough yo still believe our preaching
Naive enough to want you just the same
Thoough your hands are wrapped around
my lung and pressing down my heart.
How long had i wanted this for
because i had lost it all
and now it was back at my fingertips
But by now i was dying
walking my way to your forgotten grave
This was the dream so many would want
And im willing to throw away
Because it no longer means a thing to me
Your big words and recycled phrases
Stop phasing the way i live
I wish to say ive forgotten
but i havent, nor will i ever
but ill let you be happy
as i bandage my bleeding heart
Because i no longer want any of this

The beast within the burden is alright
a product of his father and a slave to his pride
-William Beckett

Selfish As Selfish

Time; Relative and beautiful
and most likely to repeat
history is only a strained
and oh so perfect memory

so deliberately and casual
are the words youve woven
so delicately and lovely
like our faltering skyline

So little left for eyes
to taint badly and for lips
to stain so carefully
and to break and tear

our lips have become cancer
pouring through our own skin
why are we killing time
and injurying eternity

Stockpiled Millions Of Memories

In the winters duskk
when the sun lies across
the bleeding colors
we call the horizon
in that perfect second
only you and I exist
nothing but an "us"
nothing but a "you"
in that perfect second
where all is nonexistent
there is where we love

Perfect Symmetry

To me you are only
a line, wlaking stanza
perfect symmetry
Your body carries
grace, beauty, so much
perfect symmetry
Your skin creeps oh so
slowly, deliberately
perfect symmetry
your smile dents hearts
becomes the cruel reminder of
perfect symmetry
You can be so rightso sane, so stable
perfect symmetry
Aesthetics pour from your skin
shallow as a pond
perfect symmetry
You and only you
can enbody so well
perfect symmetry

I Was Waiting On A Different Story

Every second seizes to your melody
one in which both words and hearts
choose to dance, choose to die
side by side, breath by breath.
Every person moves at the speed
of the parting of your lips
every sigh, and every breath taken
can almost bring them back
every word that manages to seep
past the contours of your lips
we take into our own
and wrap it around our bloodstream

Isolated

Carolyn Martinez
Period 6
2/2/09
Isolation seems to be the law of the way the world works, because she was never really anything but herself, and in her own. It was a casual, to be sorrounded frequently by only acquaintances, but nothing ever really existed. She was a world within herself, such potential hidden by a social status that would never allow more options to the carbon copied world.In this enviorment, youd never know talent, even if it were to cross your path on a daily basis, because it was easier to be compatible, than to be different. Tolerence had been turned into casual malcontence, and ran along the sides of anxiety, and though she smiled , and carried her head up high, somewhat arrogant, filled with the daily charasteristics of what you wish you once were. The smile though, falters for a moment, and loses its composure. What are you left with then? A broken heart, the lies you’ve lived, and the slurred memory. This is all life is to her, and all life means to me, just a moment, a breath, and what will soon become something forgotten. This lie isnt so prefectly lived as you may have come to conceive, don’t be surprised if you can hear the shatters of glass, and hearts.



sometimes my homework is actual inspiration, sometimes words just seem to race past my thoughts, and there comes a moment when both my fingertips, and lips can keep up with my thoughts, that perfect moment creates this, pure inspiration.

Poetic Tragedy

How is it that youve learned to love
all on your own
that breathing is almost a thought
and wanting is a second nature
How is it that you claim independence
from all who need you
is it that difficult to forget
or is it just easier than to regret?
Does naivety prove my point
or does it kill all your resent
How is it that these words
cant phase a second breath
Do you lie more than you lust
or are the scales even?
How is it that you kill
but are proven innocent.