|Deviant Login||Shop||Join deviantART for FREE||Take the Tour|
It's not abuse
There are no
no outlandish scars
no black eyes
I told myself
I will not be fooled again
I told myself
he's realized his mistakes
I always said,
if it was me,
I'd leave after the first strike,
the first blow,
there were no blows,
there were no strikes
it was just a bad situation
bad things happen,
once in awhile,
all of his stories are the same,
they were all crazy,
he was just trying to help them,
don't bother with her,
she's a basket case
nothing matches up
there are no truths,
there is no substance
I feel sick.
it's not like that,
you're just over-reacting,
that's not what I said,
you're just hearing what you want to hear
I've been had.
No matter how much I tell myself,
that getting anxious will do me no good,
that I should be above all this,
that it will just make things worse
my body hums with anxiety,
it will never
puppetPuppet on a string, puppet on a fucking string,
Manipulate me, make me dance,
I'm your entertainment,
Like a wounded animal caught in a trance.
Round and round I go, on parade, its all for show,
I'm your entertainment; I'm your toy,
Here when you're lonely, here to bring you joy.
I can't see this ending, but then I couldn't see the start,
Broken and torn by you,
Yet you still hold my heart.
Its broken and bleeding,
Lying in your hand,
Tightened my strings, too hard to stand.
I'm here, I'm waiting for you to appear,
Tangled in my strings, caught within my fear.
When will it end, make the spinning stop,
I am your paper doll,
Tossed aside and crumpled,
waiting for you to smooth me out or set me alight.
A slap across the face is like a tender touch,
I would give anything for you to look at me again
I am your paper doll, crumpled and forgotten.
Blood BrothersBrookie always holds my hand when we cross the street. She's never given a reason for it, she just does it. It's become this unspoken rule with us that whenever we cross the street together, she slips her hand in mine and I lace my fingers through hers and we walk hand-in-hand until we reach the other side and she drops her hand and we both wipe our palms on our jeans. Brookie's a little scared of crossing the street. Her poppa died in a car crash when we were six. He was a pedestrian. She's never gotten over it.
Brookie is my best friend going on sixteen years now, which is pretty impressive considering we're both sixteen. We don't have some cute little story about how we were born in the same hospital on the same day or about how our mothers were best friends long before they were pregnant with us and somehow passed on that bond while we were still in utero. No, Brookie and I met the same way ever
Keep in Touch!
A two-time Community Volunteer for the deviantART Related category, Anne is well-known as a positive, helpful force. She is the community's resident expert when it comes to CSS (Cascading Style Sheets), and her personal gallery offers a wide variety of tutorials for new and experienced coders alike. In addition, each winter she hosts a calendar project encouraging members to create Journal designs for all to use, bringing more creativity to the community.
It is with immense gratitude that we acknowledge Anne as the recipient of the Deviousness Award for October 2014. Read More