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Literature Text
I'm not pretty,
I'm not beautiful,
I'm not gorgeous nor cute.
But I've always found myself different,
Different from the rest.
I don't always like the same music,
Or have the same taste,
I don't always think of what I'll do tomorrow,
Because I know I may not even have tomorrow.
The Lion King wasn't always my favorite movie,
Not at all.
I usually preferred Robin Hood ,
Or my real favorite, Mulan
I write in composition books,
About my sadness and grief,
But I wanted to tell you today,
That I may be something I'm not.
I may not have blonde hair,
People tell me it's light brown.
I may not have blue eyes,
They have an odd tint of gold in them.
And I may not be who I say I am.
Or am I?
I can say that because even I don't know who I am,
But for now, I think I'll enjoy the moment of letting myself be, just a little
Different.
I'm not beautiful,
I'm not gorgeous nor cute.
But I've always found myself different,
Different from the rest.
I don't always like the same music,
Or have the same taste,
I don't always think of what I'll do tomorrow,
Because I know I may not even have tomorrow.
The Lion King wasn't always my favorite movie,
Not at all.
I usually preferred Robin Hood ,
Or my real favorite, Mulan
I write in composition books,
About my sadness and grief,
But I wanted to tell you today,
That I may be something I'm not.
I may not have blonde hair,
People tell me it's light brown.
I may not have blue eyes,
They have an odd tint of gold in them.
And I may not be who I say I am.
Or am I?
I can say that because even I don't know who I am,
But for now, I think I'll enjoy the moment of letting myself be, just a little
Different.
Literature
The Abused
Their Eyes
Have many stories hidden behind them
They stare at you blankly
Sadness and pain buried deep within
But you won't catch a tear shed from them
Their hands and feet
Brutally beaten, trashed, slashed, and stepped upon
By the ones who cruelly made them victimized
Forced to live fearing for their lives
Yet they refuse to break and continue to survive
Their hearts
Forever scarred from being completely broken to pieces
From the tortures of abuse for the many years
Not knowing who to trust
Though they continue to stay strong
Their brains
Images carved deep inside them
Of everlasting turmoil
Confused on what they did wrong
Literature
Bipolar Disorder
Look over your shoulder. They're watching you.
Tighten your stomach muscles.
Bounce your leg up and down.
Faster.
Faster.
"Are you okay?"
No.
"I'm fine."
Shut up.
Don't say anything.
Feel it, feel the thoughts melting from your mind.
Freeze.
Stare.
Laugh.
"What are you doing?"
Dying.
"Nothing."
They're behind you.
Kill them before they kill you.
"What's wrong?"
Please save me.
"Nothing."
Crazy. You're crazy.
No one wants you.
Pull the trigger.
Do it.
"Please tell me what's wrong."
You wouldn't understand.
"Nothing."
Laugh.
Smile.
Scream.
"Who are you? I don't know you anymore."
I'm a nobody.
I am Bipolar Disorder.
... "I don't know.
Literature
Writing Rage
I don't write for you.
For your heartbreak or love.
For your tears or smiles.
For you pain or your bliss.
I write for me.
For my tragedies.
For my happiness.
For my pain.
To get what no one wants to hear,
out of me.
To let my voice be heard.
I write these stories about
cutting,
suicide,
anorexia,
heartbreak,
and pain,
because these are things the world
chooses to ignore.
Love and a happy ending,
what everyone wants.
That's not what I give.
I give these "unhappy" endings
to show you,
them,
him,
her,
everyone,
that not everything is
"happily ever after."
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I think I am just a bit, little, tad bit different
Honestly that's just the best word to describe me at times.
I'm different from everyone else, in a good or bad way- I don't know. I've always been somehow older then everyone else, mentally and a bit physically.
I remember talking in the locker room, just before P.E. and one girl in a different row asked, "Is there a guy in here?"
When she saw me she only then realized it was me then asked me if I was in her grade, I said no.
Since sixth grade, I could always be mistaken as a sophomore or freshman. But I wasn't.
Seventh grade- "Can't I just skip eighth grade and go straight to ninth?"
I always fit in better with them, along with my friends who were older than me, but I loved them like I grew up with them since we were in diapers.
Sixth Grade- Year of despair, laughs and tears. Not a good year in general. Okay, that's all my years.
"Why can't I be at least a little bit less different?"
But really, I now think it's my calling to be different.
And I sort of like it, I do.
Because now, I'm fairly happy, and I can hope that happiness lasts at least a year. If not, I'll get back up and try again.
Honestly that's just the best word to describe me at times.
I'm different from everyone else, in a good or bad way- I don't know. I've always been somehow older then everyone else, mentally and a bit physically.
I remember talking in the locker room, just before P.E. and one girl in a different row asked, "Is there a guy in here?"
When she saw me she only then realized it was me then asked me if I was in her grade, I said no.
Since sixth grade, I could always be mistaken as a sophomore or freshman. But I wasn't.
Seventh grade- "Can't I just skip eighth grade and go straight to ninth?"
I always fit in better with them, along with my friends who were older than me, but I loved them like I grew up with them since we were in diapers.
Sixth Grade- Year of despair, laughs and tears. Not a good year in general. Okay, that's all my years.
"Why can't I be at least a little bit less different?"
But really, I now think it's my calling to be different.
And I sort of like it, I do.
Because now, I'm fairly happy, and I can hope that happiness lasts at least a year. If not, I'll get back up and try again.
© 2011 - 2024 cafenzie
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In this case normality is a standard based on the general intrests of the majority of an age group in a population
But everyone is a bit DIFFRENT from everyone else so the true standard of normality should be diffrence
But everyone is a bit DIFFRENT from everyone else so the true standard of normality should be diffrence