kinda emo... kinda sad... really bad...

“I… I know I should have told you a really really long time ago but I just couldn’t. I couldn’t pull myself from the safety that had come from my quiet loving and it terrifies me that I’m saying this but it really needs to be said.

“I’ve never been in love. At least, I don’t think so. I mean I could be in love with you right now and not even know it. All I know is that I can’t stop thinking about you and I don’t want to even think of you with someone else.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is that I want to be more than friends… I really want to be more than that. I understand that this is really sudden and you probably want to think this through, so I’ll just leave you alone now. But before I go, I want to say that if you don’t want to be together, don’t be surprised if I don’t call you or help you with something or pretend that the rumors I hear about you don’t bother me. Don’t be surprised if I can’t talk to you anymore.

“I guess this is love, then. That’s what I’ll leave you with; I love you, but if you don’t love me I don’t exist anymore.”


yeahhh don't ask. it kinda just came out of my fingers so here it is.
  • Current Music
    Suffer - Staind


I don't drink. I don't do drugs. I don't smoke.
I don't do stupid things.

Maybe it's because I have a goal in my life; because I have something that I am striving for that will not be reachable with things that can only harm me.

I have a goal, a dream, that someday I will stand on top of that podium, in a place that even I, the dreamiest of dreamers, will stand in a place that I can not fanthom of in this moment in time.

This is my dream. This is my promise.


i have NO idea what that's from. i just sat down opened my NF journal and it just slid from my pen.
  • Current Mood
    sick GERD

I don't

I don't cry at funerals.

does this make me a cold-hearted person?
does this mean I've been to too many funerals in sixteen years,
or is this because I never say goodbye
when I know that someday, I will see you again...
  • Current Mood
    giddy i love criminal minds. it=life


there is a Canadian website that publishes stories with a complete beginning, middle, and end but can only be 55 words. fun little challenge.

I woke up to crying. My bare feet padded down the hallway, the noise growing louder.

Mommy was in the kitchen, hands fretting. Crying. Grandmom and Grandpop stood together. Crying.

I looked to the bundle of blankets on the floor, but my big brother wasn’t there.

Mommy knelt down. “Anna, Andrew died last night.”


i dunno. i wrote in in AP Lang, and we were talking about non-fiction stuff so that kinda came out...
  • Current Music
    Call Me When You're Sober - Evenesence


of stuff.

there's a webiste (that i'm in love with) called

here's some stuff from it:

Here I was, on my way through the Everglades, and I got stopped by cops because the trunk of my car was shooting bullets. I should have known that stupid bitch would have done something like that to get their attention. I should have killed her when I had the chance, and I shouldn’t have thrown the gun in the trunk with her. I just wanted to freak her out beforehand, you know?

I’m losing my sanity. White walls and the voice inside my head remind me that maybe what's happening to me isn't good; maybe I really am crazy. That’s not what the hopping raccoon said, though. He said I’m right as rain.

it was all around me; suffocating, scratching, pulling me back in space and time to when he was there, when he had taken something from me, something that I held so precious and then he was gone and all I had left were memories

then this is a random thing.
I looked at her and I thought I saw fire in her eyes but that doesn’t make sense because her eyes are the coldest of blues and then I saw the fire again and I had to step back and I realized she was telling me she was pregnant and I’m stuck wondering how her eyes can be so cold yet so fiery at the same time and I realize holy shit I’m a father. But now all I can think is what color the baby’s eyes will be.
  • Current Music
    Diary of Jane - Breaking Benjamin

One Last Kiss

:) finally, i know


I knelt down onto the damp earth and took another shaky breath. Reaching out, I touched the letters with my fingers before they became too blurry to read. I took the long-stemmed rose from my husband’s loose fingers. Holding it my hands, it was a stark contrast to the world around us.

Trembling, I closed my eyes and brought the rose to my lips and kissed it one last time. Tears threatened to spill from my eyes, but she always said she hated to see us cry.

I gently laid the rose at the base of her headstone, gave both one last touch and pushed myself to my feet. My husband walked beside me, and we ambled away; every step, I wanted to run back, to touch her headstone one last time, to give her flower one last kiss.

We were only yards away when the tears fell, both from my eyes and the sky. I stumbled on the uneven grass, and sank to my knees again. I buried my face into my hands and sobbed; it was just too hard to hold back. His hand on my shoulder reminded me I wasn’t alone.

“Don’t cry, Mommy. I’m going to be okay,” a voice whispered in my ear.

My eyes snapped open, and I looked back. Didn’t I…

I turned my head to the crying Heaven. “Oh, baby,” I whispered.

“I’m going to be okay,” it echoed.

More tears poured from my eyes, but this time I smiled.

“She’s going to be okay,” I sighed, allowing the words to wash over me. The dying flicker of hope in my chest rekindled, and burned stronger than ever before. “She’s going to be okay.”

My husband helped me to my feet, a slight smile on his face; one I hadn’t seen in months. I looked into his eyes. “She’s going to be okay.” His smile grew.

Hand–in–hand, we walked through the rain to our car. As I opened the door, I looked back and smiled again; I had already given her one last kiss, and now it was time for my Rose to be free.

i actually smelled roses when i was writing this, which is really creepy cause the last thing my room would smell like is roses!
  • Current Music
    My Confession - Josh Groban

The Tear's Don't Stop

this didn't get anything good from EotW, but i like it.


Everywhere I turn, every step I make, it’s right there, behind me, beside me, in me. Again, things change in ways I know too well, in ways I hate with the passion of the years I’ve lived with it.

When I was younger, I was that kid, the one with the coolest band t-shirts and the blaring music. I remember getting lectured by my father for blowing out a brand-new pair of speakers that were barely a week old. Still, I liked things loud and rambunctious; my neighbors hated how my room was closest to them. They never really like Guns ‘N Roses at two in the morning…

It’s gone for the moment. I can breathe deeply and not feel like my ears are full of water, and I can hear my children playing in the back yard and the dogs getting loud with them, yelling, screaming, laughing in the way that only children can. It brings tears to my eyes, and I quickly wipe them on my shirt-sleeve, my hands sodden with soap suds.

It’s coming; I can feel it creeping up on me, and suddenly the children are deathly silent. I look out the window, but they are still screaming and laughing and yelling. Our chihuahua is dancing in circles, barking as she turns. Normally I would be in hysterics, but it only saddens me more, and this time when the tears fall I do not wipe them away.
  • Current Music

spitting therse out tonight

heres another!


I’m here, I’m here, I’m talking to you, can’t you hear me, I’m trying not to cry, I’m holding up your head and trying not to let the rain or the blood that drips from your forehead get into your eyes and it’s all I can do not to scream right along with you.

What did you do, I’m sitting here on a breaking bridge with your head in my lap and your hand finds mine and all I think of is how cold it is when the pavement below me feels like I’m sitting on the sun.

The shards of glass that are wedged into my arms and chest slowly dig around with my movements, deepening my pain till I can’t feel anymore but then all I felt was pain in my heart and in my mind because here you are, head on my lap and the seat belt left a rash across your neck but it didn’t help at all, the man who drove on the wrong side is dancing around and laughing in the rain, his soul still in one piece.

Your hand drops from mine, its warmth finally gone after a few words managed to sputter from your lips and I’m sitting here, my head down and I’m looking at the big piece of glass that’s lying next to us and all I can imagine is taking it and ramming it into your murderers heart and the now you’re lying there all alone-


all of that is 4 sentences.
  • Current Music
    spin - lifehouse

Dancing in the Rain

really random tidbit that popped out of my head. still needs a difinitive end, but this is what i've got so far.


She smiles at him, taking his offered hand. They step out into the night and the rain wets their clothes and hair and skin, erasing the day as they become clean under the drizzle. Their smiles are as big as the moon, and in its light they dance. Slow, close, quiet. She likes to hear their heartbeats over the subtle noise, to hear that he’s really there. Clothes became heavy as they rain falls harder, and they shed a layer at a time, lightening the loads on their backs and in their hearts and minds. Soon, they are dancing too slowly for any rhythm, and they just stand together, hands and hearts moving and beating as one.
  • Current Music
    Trying - Lifehouse

no name yet

alright, i know this needs work so anything is appreciated.


He comes in, grabs a bottle from the fridge and plops down on the couch, turning on the TV. All Daddy watches is the news, and most of the time he sits all quiet-like, except for when he gets all tense and says very bad words at the TV. Once he threw his bottle at the TV, and it didn’t like that very much. Nuh uh, no it didn’t.

A long time ago, back when the smell of Mommy was still in the air, I crept from my room and peeked around the hallway door into the TV room, and I saw Daddy staring at the TV, and I didn’t think he saw anything, cause his eyes were all red and scary. I watched him for a couple minutes before the TV got really, really loud and scared me. I screamed, and then Daddy woke up and came after me. I tried to run back to my room, but Daddy caught me before I got there.

I went to bed that night with a sore bottom and wet pants. I had seen a face on the TV, and it reminded me of someone but I couldn’t remember who it was. I tossed and turned all night, trying to keep from crying because I knew that would make Daddy madder, and a madder Daddy is not something you want to see. The next morning, when I woke up, Daddy was standing in my doorway, wearing his work clothes and he didn’t look happy.

He said, “I’m sorry for doing that to you, but you can’t leave your room, you understand me, boy?”

I said, “Yeh- yes, Daddy. I hear you.”

He turned and left, closing my door behind him. I sat up, and heard the key in my lock. Daddy was extra-mad at me. He only locked me up when I did something very, very bad.

I sat on my bed for a very long time, playing with the mountains in my blankets. My fingers were going on a trip across the entire world.

When the sun fell, I heard Daddy come home. He was a little silly, so I lay back down and pretended to be asleep. I heard him slam into my door a couple times to open my door before he remembered that he had locked it.

The key took a couple more minutes, and by the time he got my door open he was saying very bad words. He came in, smelling like metal and his bottle.

“Come here, boy,” he said.

I had my back to him so I hoped he would think I was asleep and leave me alone.


I hate being called that. I am not a boy anymore. I sat up and faced him. There was red paint all over his face and hands, and I saw some shining on his work clothes.

“Come here.”

I got up and went to him, trying not to wet my pants again. He turned and left my room, so I followed him. He went into the TV room, and turned it on. I stood at the doorway, fiddling my bare feet and trying not to cry.


There was that face again. I blinked a couple times before I recognized the drawing of the woman. It had been many, many days since I had seen her. Mommy’s picture took up the whole screen, and I heard a loud voice talking.

“This Jane Doe was found last night, floating in the River. If you know this woman, please contact us at-“

Daddy turned off the TV. He didn’t look happy, but he had stopped breathing so fast and the paint on his face and work clothes had dried a little. My Daddy left the room, the remote forgotten on the floor. I picked it up and turned the TV on, Mommy’s face appearing again.

“Please, if you have any information on this woman, please call the hotline. Jane Doe was brutally attacked, sustaining fatal lacerations to her face and neck along with bruises all over her body. Time of death was around a noon yesterday, but the body was not put into the water until late last night-”
  • Current Music
    Kelly Clarkson