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Who Are You?What's that?
In the distance...
But who are you?
Just a faded memory.
I can't tell you who you are.
You're blurred by the darkness.
But what do I care?
If I don't know you, why should I care?
Hah, as if I do..
But.. I do.
I want to know you.
Are you important?
I can't touch you.
Or reach you.
We're surrounded in darkness.
I'm reaching, but not far enough.
Your face is distorted.
And you're reaching out too.
I feel like you're important.
I know it in my heart.
I'm not sure what to think.
Nor can I see the truth.
I know I'll find you.
Good or bad.
Right or wrong.
Someday, I'll find you.
-=And you will -Never- be another -Memory- again.=-
In The End- The Alex SeriesIn the end
Her wrists will pour.
The blood so red
The cuts so sore.
The more that comes
the better she feels.
As she hides in her fears.
The Weight Of The World I am their stabilizers.
I keep their world happy.
I try hard to keep them happy.
I must hide my sadness.
I won't let them see it.
If I do, they won't be happy.
Even if I'm dragging through the ground, they can stand on me.
They can't be sad, hurt, or angry.
I will take it and hold it in for them.
I am just a cheery blonde.
But I'm really hurting inside.
His constant insults, their problems, my problems.
Sometimes I want it to all go away.
But it can't.
My friends need me to lean on.
I have to do this.
I can't care about how I feel.
I have to ignore the sad, empty feeling in my chest.
It doesn't belong to me.
I'm as 'happy' as I'll ever be.
For them to know I'm sad is a disturbance to their world.
I maintain their happiness.
If I'm the destroyer, I'm not happy.
I can't simply let it go.
Willing to take a knife to my wrist.
A bullet to my chest.
And the battle wounds of their fights.
Knowing that they are safe and happy is all I need.
I will sit in darkness, alone.
If it means to nev
You Stole My Memories- But I Don't Want Them You're nothing but a stuffed animal.
But you hold my memories.
You keep them from me.
Not a word from your cotton mouth.
Why can't you tell me my memories?
Not a word spoken for these years.
Blue, white, yellow.
A red shaped heart near your stubby tail.
You're slowly falling apart.
But you still won't tell.
Are you making sure my memories are never mine again?
I don't understand why.
Years, days, minutes.
No birthdays, no meetings, nothing.
I'm holding the bad things.
Funeral, getting hit, being bad.
Please, just tell me.
I want to know before it's too late.
Before you're gone, too.
The fear means nothing if it's happening.
Tell me what I lost.
Tell me who I am.
My heart is lost.
It's searching for the memories, wandering the darkness for them.
I want to remember.
But I can't.
You won't allow it.
I'm an empty shell.
No past leads to no present.
No present leads to no future.
But stuck with you.
How much longer do we have to go?
You're always th
Drowning Walking in water.
Cold up to my neck.
Something tugged, I tripped.
Reflex to breath, no air.
Body seemingly numb, no movements.
Will to stay awake slipping.
Eyes look around, green-blue.
Feels like falling.
Calm. Panic gone, movements stopped.
Relaxing, not breathing.
Lungs burning, something grabs.
Pulled from sinking.
Gasping, breaking the surface.
Holding onto plastic, coughing.
Looking around, no one there.
AerosolIt has been a day and a half since the crash, and I have found a cabin. In some ways, this is a relief. I don’t know if I could face another night on the mountain without shelter. Outside, a fire does no good: the heat simply travels upwards. However, this place also raises some difficult questions. I estimate that I’ve put eight miles between myself and the crash site. I don’t know if this will be enough. It Saving...
occurs to me that I don’t really know anything.
The survival manual recommends staying with the plane. It explains that this affords the best chance of rescue. It explains that the wreckage offers warmth and shade. It explains that seventy percent of pilots who stay are located within three days, while seventy percent of those who leave are
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^Nyx-Valentine arrived in our community and started whipping everyone into a frenzy with her relentless desire to bring the Artistic Nude and Fetish galleries to the fore. 9 years later, and it's safe to say that Nyx is not only a leader as a photographer in these galleries, but she has also established herself as a much saught after model. ^... Read More