poeticexpression01

She looked me over, looked around in my closet then said: Girl, this is crazy let me give you some tips on being a real lady... you should curl your hair, or maybe iron it really straight try smiling every once in a while, and try putting make up on your face why don't you ever wear dresses? why don't you ever wear heels?   Are you grunge? Are you emo?  Are you gothic? Why you always so quiet? try telling us how you feel. ...how i feel? i feel way more comfortable in my torn jeans than in your pencil skirt and over your lace blouse prefer my john Lennon t shirt i smile when i mean it, and don't put anything on my face unless i need

Girl, this is a sickness you have and you really need some help to get you to stop knitpicking and criticizing yourself.... Those were her words and i know she's right, but you see it's a little too late for now i've become the mirror's slave A fact that in no way thrills me, some one save me from this damn mirror before it kills me! My obsession is mistaken for vanity and pride, yet they have no idea how much it hurts inside to not be able to relax. to be able to think of nothing else, but "when's the next time I'll be able to go look at myself?" To dissect every feature of my body, to whine about the shape of my lips, to conclude that

Their faces bare huge grimaces, their fangs are sharp. they'll make you their target and aim straight at your heart     such cunning deception that you couldn't tell them apart, from those that are real and those that are fake. Here lies the story of my greatest mistake. to trust a habitual liar, to believe every lie. to misconceive that smile, and the look in those eyes I believed every word that fell from that poisonous tongue, convinced myself that there was no reason to run. mistook what we had for a friendship, hell it was so much less cuz what kind of friendship devours you until there's nothing left? we haven'

may your body become weak and brittle, then disentegrate into dust may your manhood shrivel and fall off (as punishment for your sickening lust) When you open your mouth to speak, choke and lose all breath Then be devoured by man-eating vultures, til there's nothing left

There is this girl who keeps her heart on a shelf..... i love her, i hate her, i'd kill her myself. I'd take her and shake her to be of some help. i'd ask her "why can't you see pass your own presumed vanity?" i'd cry for that  girl plagued by her insanity. She 's quite a handful that girl, what a sight to see, i'd wonder about her.... if that girl wasn't me