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A crooked frame of a picture perfect familyHangs in the hallwayWith the eyes cut outTo imitate the blindness of suburbia The family dog remains in the frameTo tell the tales of an animal
“Naughty Girl! DO You know? Where the wicked go? After Death?” Asked A Sadist TO A Small Girl “They GO TO Hell” The Girl replied “What Must You DO?
Beauty cannot be measured, Nor can it possibly be the only thing that matters, But perception is reality, And what the human mind believes instantly morphs into truth, I am a slave to its tyranny,
Who am I? I am the seconds in between breaths where the thoughts creep in I am the smile in the sunshine with the windows down in my jeep
My mother is weak And I cannot stand it She is feeble, stupid, and plain Who are you? And where is the woman that I once knew? You’re a weakling, darling A scaredy little ghost
Selfies are stupid, You can fight me if you think otherwise, When people take them in public, I look at them cross-eyed, What the fuck are you doing, Why filters exist, is another damn question,
Do you ever get that feeling? That no matter what you do, you can never live up to the expectations? The expectations that are set by your parents or your friends or the society around you?
This world... full of fakes. Who is real? Who is putting on a facade?
I've cried I cry So much that they have stained my skin I've spoken I scream Either way, you still haven't heard me I've heard I listen And you keep saying the same thing
hair tied up like her toung in her throat flowers skattered like her toughts high shorts zipped up like her mouth every day socks pulled high likepuffs of smoke leaving her mouth