haven't been on X)

so yeah, it's been a looong time since I've posted, and the reasons why are simple, nobody looks at this page except me, so it's beyond pointless to post.
yet here I am again, uselessly posting words that no one but my mother reads. (yes, it's sad but I really don't care) I tell my friends to look at this, and I tell them to comment, beg them to comment, and I get nada. **eyeroll** I even write the address on their arm or hand or something and nothing happens. oh well.

The Fighting, The Screaming

The fighting the screaming, it keeps me from my bed.

No laughter, no hope yet, there’s only fear and dread.

These people they say they know but really they’re just dumb

They say that this ain’t the hard part and that the worst is yet to come.

But their screaming and fighting, it hurts me more than a lie

I know that the outcome is someone screaming at me tonight.

They get mad, they lose their cool and then shoot at me,

Then get worse when I lose it too and decide to fire back.

You aren’t your parents, they aren’t you, now you have to choose.

Are you like them, or will you choose to be some other muse.

Can you change, or will you fall into their down-soft lies

The fighting the screaming, it gets into your head.

It penetrates, it kills your soul, so you’re as good as dead.

The people say it gets easier but they don’t know your past.

Full of memories that help you sleep when your mind is full of screams.

You can’t trust in mom and pop cause they treat you with pure hatred

You wish for relief in some other form but screams are all you have.

The Drain

Okay, before I begin I just want to give some background, my lovely english teacher gave us an in-class assignment where we had to write in the format called "stream of consciousness" some people wrote lyrics to a random song, others doodled, my friend wrote about why she was late to class and I wrote this.

All our lives swirl down the drain
Slowly drifting down.
Taking precious, close-knit ties and breaking them all down.
Living lives we never had,
Parading our misfit lies.
Living in our Masquerade
As we fall into our drain.
We make our choices,
Set our course, then never take a stand.
We made our beds, we took the pill and now we have to deal.
People falling down the drain, they never know it's there.
People dying, that's the cure,
Or so the experts say.
All our lives swirl down the drain,
Yet noone seems to mind.
We're wasting all our precious time
Rushing 'round through stores.
When really we should take our time,
And live life well as before the Fall.

Empty

mug of coffee in your hand,
drown out the fear screaming in your head.
drive the car, do the work, get back home before you get hurt.
write the words, make someone see, then back in the box before you are seen.
hide your face, hear the voices, oh there are so many choices.
heal the wounds that your own pen made.
empty feeling in your chest.

heartbreak started
heartbreak ends

where do you go when the beginning has it's end?

Manners Matter

I was walking in my local target yesterday, well really, I was following my mom cause I had no cash therefore twas fruitless for me to shop. We were over by the pharmacy and it's always really crowded over there because of how they arranged the aisles. I had the cart while my mom was waiting for a prescription, and I was standing in one of the very small aisles and because of how carts are made I accidentally prevented anyone from getting in said aisle.
Now, the real reason I'm writing this is because a woman who was around the same age as my mom came around the corner from the aisle and said to her son (who I guess to be around 11-ish) "We need to get down that aisle" and since I heard her I moved my cart and she walked through with a nod while her son looked at me, half-smiled and said, "Thank you fellow human," I thought it was a sweet and different way to say "thanks" so I smiled and said "you're welcome" and as he and his mother walked further away from me I heard the mother scold her son and tell him to behave. Now if you're like me you're probably going "what??" because the son had clearly been polite in saying thank you, no matter how odd the whole sentence had been. I guess she was a little embarrassed by how her son had called me a fellow human or she just had had a long day at work and didn't feel like putting words to the nod. Whatever her reasoning was, that young boy made me smile in his unique way of saying thanks and I hope wherever he goes he remembers that it's not always what you say but how you say it that matters.