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when writers cryAwake on strong, black coffee drinkswhen writers cry by ~TheLaughingDreamer
Words on paper, liquid ink
Dreams of pen tips, future lies
Tragic stories, quotes of the wise
Nights have carved their dark, deep valleys
In the hollows of my eyes
For you see, my friend, when writers cry
There are no tears, their cheeks are dry
But ink dipped fingers, worn out wrists
Chewed up nails and bloody fists
You see, it's strange when writers cry
Their hearts are true, their words don’t lie
They mourn in silence for a few days
Of paper cuts and tear-less haze
Of coffee mugs and smoky paper
Liquid spills, and water vapor
Sorry dreams and wasted hours
Putrid smells and dying flowers
(Torn
Barbie GirlAnxiety is a cheese grater,Barbie Girl by ~LetsStartSomeRiots
running marathons
up and down my back,
making me rear up and cry out
like electro shock therapy.
Cold is a cruel word,
consuming a cruel world,
stabbing like needles,
making us all feel possessed.
Possessed by words.
Possessed by the world.
Possessed by the coldness of it all.
Hunger consumes,
an unimaginable famine.
We hunger for love.
We hunger for attention.
We hunger to live,
to FEEL.
The peasants are starving.
Let them eat.
We're living in a counterfeit world.
We're made of plastic,
not so fantastic.
Let's all bleach our hair blonde
and let society perfect us.
Nobody's perfect,
but if we all become fake,
then we all become nobodys.
Barbie doll heels,
cold, hard plastic
scarred by the anxiety
tearing at their spines.
Barbie doll skinny
because they all hunger for something they can't have.
Sta.sh
