My art teacher had us draw a cover for our scetch pads, and i drew this inspired by Cassandra Clare's amazing book series, The mortal instruments
And that is how i died...I don’t know what compelled me to pick up the gun. I don’t know why I put the barrel between my lips. I certainly have no idea why I pulled the trigger. All I know is that I regretted it immediately.
You often hear of near death experiences, of people claiming that their life flashed before their eyes. I never believed them. How could so many years, so many long and tenuis years, pass by in your mind so quickly that it’s referred to as a “flash”? It wasn’t a bit of lightning or a comic book hero: it was a lifetime, something that is too long to “flash” in and out of existence so quickly. Just like making a great pie, it takes time to get from the start to finish. So why is that moment of recollection and remembrance referred to as a “flash” when it can’t possibly come and go so fast? I always wondered about that, the “flash” that supposedly came before death. To be honest, I never really believed in it. With
I am markedScreams.
Cries for mercy.
This is how it always starts. This is how it always ends. Well, a part of how it ends. Every beginning, ending… They’re all different, unique. I remember them all. All 186 starts, endings and marks. I could never forget any of them. The marks make sure of that. And, just like how every ending has screams but is slightly different, every mark is different. Just enough so, that I could almost draw a line from the mark to the screams I heard on that day.
As always, I stand watching. I watch as the woman, shackled to the ground, tries to squirm away, as she tries to defend herself, as she cries for me to help her. But I stand and watch. I force my eyes to stay on the monstrous display in front of me. I’ve done this almost 200 times before. What’s 1 more? Even as I think this, I know I’m lying. Every time I watch, it’s worse than the last.
Your beating artPaint, Pencils, Colorful world
Markers, Pens, Erasers twirled
Crayons, Glue, Fingers charcoaled
Glitter, Rhinestones, Everything sparkled
Painting, Drawing, Way of expression
Coloring, Outlining, Be an artisan
Melting, Sticking, Have some fun
Shiny, Glossy, Bright like the sun
Paint, Pencils, Make some art
Markers, Pens, inspired by Mozart
Crayons, Glue, Easy to tweak
Glitter, Rhinestones, Go be unique
Drawing, Dancing, It’s all art
Acting, Singing, It’s in our heart
Joking, Laughing, It’s how we live
Memory, Expression, It’s our motive
World of wordsI love going into the world of words
Like into the book “To kill a mocking bird”
Where no one can disturb my peaceful state of mind
And there are so many things to discover and find
I’ve met Thomas in the Glade and maze
Where my memories were lost, my past but a haze
We ran for our lives from big deadly grievers
While Ably went through the Changing fever
I’ve been in a world with dragons and elves
Where the king and the royals care for but themselves
The people called dragon riders once ruled all
And a boy named Eragon rose where others fall
I’ve seen the world I know filled with gods
The Greeks, the Egyptians, what are the odds?
Percy and Carter had to fight the gods wars
But Percy’s first fight was with a Minotaur
I’ve met a girl who was killed by her parents
She killed them in cold hearted vengeance
A ghost hunter came who did not want to kill her
This was the first chapter of their new life together
I’ve seen a boy who was cursed by m
In yer Noise[Todd]
White. All I see is white, all I feel is white, all I hear, taste, smell is white. This bright whiteness that has wrapped itself around me like a blanket, suffocating me, not letting me breathe and chocking off all thoughts and all sound, drowning me in the whiteness of it all. This bright whiteness that blinds me chocks me presses down on my chest like a sadness, a black hole, a pain that ain’t never gonna let up.
But I know that sadness.
But I know that pull.
But I know that pressure and it hurts, but I love it, it breaks me but I need it, it kills me but it makes me stronger.
Cause it’s her. It’s her it’s her it’s her.
Against the blinding whiteness, I open my eyes and I open them wide and it hurts but it’s worth it, it stings but it’s worth it, it brings tears to my eyes (shut up) but it’s worth it because it’s her. I have to see her against all the pain all the sorrow, I have to get to her, have to hold her, never leave
Your standSpeech eludes me because of fear
Fear that someone might appear
I should say what I feel and feel what I say
Not live in fear every day
And this is how most people feel
With the way things are today
Because when they say we have freedom
It just means we can live
And make few choices for ourselves
And that’s why I cannot talk right now…
It’s why I can’t take the stand I want to…
It’s how I’ve let the big man win again…
Stories are covered all the time
Replaced by lies during prime
Television hours that cause
Inflictions in laws
That don’t even exist
The big man can go
Do what he pleases
Can even blow
Up the twin towers
Creating lots of stories
For the news anchors
But these dummies aren’t dumb
They are not numb
Towards the world around them
Because they see all the lies
Hanging around like horseflies
They try to stop this mayhem
Those dummies are doing
What I am
The written wordWriting…
Writing, writing, writing…
It’s what I live
It’s what I dream
It’s what I sleep
It’s what I eat
It’s what I breathe…
It’s how I leave
The real world behind.
The written word…
So delectable to read
So delicious to speak
So divine to mean
The written word…
The truth behind every person
The heart behind every soul
The spirit behind every pair of eyes…
The written word is so much more
Than just letters to make you snore
Oh they have so much more in store…
The written word is true freedom…
These days, you can’t say what you feel
You can’t claim the wheel
You can’t live for real…
But you can write
And write I will
I will, I will, I will
It’s the one piece of freedom that I still
People will tell you to shut up
That they’d wish you’d blow up
Get deported to Europe…
But they cannot tell you to stop writing
Because to not write would
Broken HomeIt’s the screams from the war downstairs that keeps me up
It’s the nightmares that still live once I wake up
It’s the heart that always breaks after the fight
It’s the tears that always cry me to bed at night
It’s all the lies and fake smiles that always make me sad
And the other half of your marriage that makes you mad
Just because your heated discussion is in the next room over
Doesn’t mean I don’t hear your voice, which are clearly not sober
I always thought you knew what you were getting into
That one cheery day when you both said “I do”
It’s a shame you were both so stupid and immature
‘Cause now I will always associate marriage with failure
He blames her and she blames him
As I watch their patience wear thin
It feels like a glitch in a game once you press restart
Because through all of this, my family has been torn apart
They say home is where the heart is
And to mine, I must send a goodbye kiss
So as I think of my
You think this is fun?I want to believe you,
Trust me, I do.
But with all the lies you’ve said
I find it hard to.
You’re supposed to help;
You’re supposed to heal,
But after everything you’ve done
I still can’t believe it’s real.
You’ve torn people down
When you should have picked them up.
Instead of helping that girl
You made fun of her break up.
In a world like this
Where we need each other
There is darkness
Yet you refuse to make it brighter.
You take joy
out of making people sad
You just wait
We’ll see who’s laughing once they get their dad
‘Cause I’m sure
He won’t hold back
Just like you
During your last attack.
So are you hurt?
Are you crying?
Well that’s what it feels like
Every time you’re punching…
Every time you’re kicking…
Every time they’re yelling
At you to stop
Because during this abuse
They have but one thought:
What have I done?
How could he possibly
Think this is fun?