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The Song/Poem/Writing Thread


Locomotion
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these dangerous fights and flashing lights

are not what you've grown accustomed to,

i'd suggest you back off and walk away

before it becomes more than we can handle

(how inevitable)

 

raised hands and jealous romance

is not an art you've yet perfected,

and no, this is neither the time nor place

to be pointing fingers of blame and hatred

(but you did this all)

 

so feign innocence and start speaking sense,

'cause it'll be hard to get out of this one

your blood red hands and emerald jealousy

speak louder than i can stand

(i'll stand before we fall)

 

now take those lies and cold dead eyes,

and don't come back before it's time

your five minutes of fame are done and dusted,

we'll deal with destruction to survive

(i'll burn us all).

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I love this song so i thought i would post it. A great NIN song

 

tried to save a place from the cuts and the scratches

tried to overcome the complications and the catches

nothing ever grows and the sun doesn't shine all day

tried to save myself but myself keeps slipping away

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well thanks...i only posted it casue my friend wanted to tell me it was good, but i doubted her. lol.

 

 

 

edit: and nowi cant write anything anymore. its hard to explain, but since the meds, i dont have emotion anymore. well, i do, but nothing strong enough to write about. just enough to function.... :(

 

I used to be able to write good poems too, but i threw away my old diary with everything in it :(

 

And i never felt like writing anymore

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My Melancholic

 

Do you even remember back then?

I try to erase the pain

I try to erase those memories

I wish to never endure it again!

 

Like a pin in the back of my skull

That time haunts me still

I still see your face at night

Every time I close my eyes

I will never be freed...

 

Forever a slave to your curse

Respite is a distant prospect

Thanks to you, my melancholic...

(repeat)

 

Years have come and gone

Still I cannot let go of you

Of your hateful memory

I will always be a prisoner

To your hateful glare...

 

*chorus*

 

I remember it all

Your hateful tongue

Your spiteful mind

Your melancholy...

 

I remember it all

Like the back of my hand

Because in the very end

You are my melancholic!

 

*chorus*

 

My melancholic...

My melancholic...

My melancholic!

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you guys make me cry... anyways... here's something I wrote for a friend... crappy little teenybopper poetry, but It really meant/s a lot to my friend and I.

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Tell Me?

How can you do what I did to myself?

Hurting because your life's been a hell

Wnating to choke on the ropes that restrain you

Hoping they end everything - you know that it's too true.

It's breaking me to see you break

Tired or dreaming, you continue to wake

When you cry, I know you need someone now

To help you fins, another way out

This time these wounds can't been sewn

Are they MY fault, or are you scared of your own

You keep me folding through the pages

My little lyricist

You keep me reading, getting tears on the words

Whie you seem to be hiding your wrists

It hurts me more to see you do this

Make-believing there's nothing left but this

I could say that I hate when you put yourself down

Could a possible outcome bring you that far out????

But it's breaking me to see you break

Tired or dreaming, you continue to wake

When you cry, I know you need someone now

To help you fins, another way out

Words can't describe how I only feel used

When you're hurting yourself, it's twice the abuse

I couldn't force you to give up this nasty "habit"

Only hope you could learn to control it

It might seem like I'm paranoid

But so far all you've done is avoid

Telling Me.

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so last year i decided to write a book, I had 60 pages on word typed, then my laptop crashed, and I lost it all :(

I havent felt like writing again until now, so I decided I would start another one.

Here is what I have so far :D

 

 

 

Let the bodies hit the floor.

Let the bodies hit the floor.

Let the bodies hit the floor.

 

Justin Reese never did like the band Drowning Pool and he had no idea why their CD was in the CD player of his black Dodge Viper Coupe. But he did know that he liked the words to the song. He stopped at a red light and pressed rewind.

 

Let the bodies hit the floor.

Let the bodies hit the floor.

Let the bodies hit the floor.

 

He turned up the volume and watched as the driver in the white Ford Explorer next to him, looked his way. He smiled at the driver, then looked ahead. He pushed the gas pedal and the 600 horsepower engine responded with a loud roar. The light turned green, he shifted and hit the gas. He sped down the street and into a tunnel where the loud sound of the engine echoed off the walls. He turned off his stereo when he heard his phone ring. The caller ID on his phone said it was his boss, Mr. White. He answered.

“Justin.” He said into the phone.

“Are you on your way?” asked Mr. White, his British accent was very apparent through the phone.

“Yes I am sir.”

“Well hurry up. If you are not in my office by six…Well you know.” He hung up.

 

Justin knew not to be late; he didn’t need to be reminded. The last time he was late… He shuddered at the thought and looked down at his clock. The numbers and letters 3:00 a.m. glowed white. His gaze returned to the road just in time to see a blue van had stopped ahead. He downshifted, slowed and came to a stop. Justin put his head back and closed his eyes.

I have three hours to get from Pittsburgh to New York City, which will be no problem once I hit the highway.

He opened his eyes and saw that the blue van in front of him had continued on. His eyes moved to his rearview mirror and saw that his car was the only one on the road. He rubbed his eyes and shifted to a higher gear, then hit the gas. His car flew down the road and up a ramp. He slowed as he neared a yield sign, looked left out his window, then shifted again and hit the gas. His car picked up speed on the highway as the bright orange arm on his speedometer quickly moved past 45, to 55, 60, then 75, finally slowing at 80.

 

The Viper looked like a black blur as it sped down the highway. He drove for the next two hours, the street lights threatening to lull him to sleep as he sped passed them, making them look like orange blurs in the sky. His car rounded a tight curve and that’s when he saw it, a white car parked in the shadows on a gravel pull off on the side of the highway. He was going too fast to try to slow, so he shifted and hit the gas. He passed the white car and looked in his mirror as the red and blue lights on the roof of the car came to life, alternating flashes. The piercing siren hit his ears and he floored the gas pedal. He looked in his mirror and saw that the police cruiser was trailing him with no trouble at all.

 

He pushed the gas harder, and looked down. The speedometer has reached 150 miles per hour. He passed an exit and frowned when he saw two more police cruisers come off the exit and onto the highway behind him. He gritted his teeth and closed his eyes. He waited a few seconds and then opened them. He smiled when he glanced into his rearview mirror. All three police cruisers had their front tires lifted 4 feet off of the ground. Two of the police officers had let go of the steering wheel and were screaming into their radios. The third officer had drawn his gun and had it out the window. Justin watched as the gun bucked in the officer’s hand. The bullet screamed towards Justin’s rear window at over 800 miles per hour. But to Justin the bullet was moving in slow motion, he focused on the flying piece of led and suddenly, the bullet turned and flew back towards the officer who had shot it. The bullet broke through the windshield of the cruiser that held the officer who had shot at him. The officer’s mouth opened in surprise and the bullet lodged into his forehead. Justin let the cruiser fall and it flipped four times before coming to rest upside down on its roof. He glanced at the road ahead and saw that he had another four seconds of straight shot of highway to deal with the last two cruisers, and then he would have to return his focus to the road because he was nearing the New York City exit. The last two cruisers flipped back, their drivers faces painted with horror. He watched as the cruisers tumbled through the air and smashed into the pavement.

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