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The Barbie Doll Image.The Barbie Doll Image.
She’s not perfect
Yet we’re all so quick to judge and speculate.
Trust me, you don’t want to be her. The oppression of beauty is the heaviest you will find.
Stereotypes are one of the most well fed weeds. Every night she claws at that blond hair of hers, wishing someone would take her seriously.
Those blue eyes of hers are the ones that have cried the most tears and hold the most secrets.
Could it be that she wasn’t always so thin? People’s words hold the most influence now a days.
And maybe...maybe she’s not as popular as you thought. Maybe those friends of hers are the people she can trust the least.
Perhaps she hates parties but goes due to the fear of being called a freak. Perhaps she doesn’t even like dating because they only see her as a piece of meat.
We ridicule her for her fake smile and maybe that’s because she’s forgotten how to smile.
Is there a chance you feel sorry for her now? Or maybe yo
Juice boxes and broken crayonsJuice boxes and broken crayons
You see those kids there, the ones you call dysfunctional and degenerated
Those are the same kids that use to draw stick figures on blank pages and houses that were solid, never broken.
Yes its hard to believe that these are the same kids who hide behind the school and smoke
When only last year they were playing hide and seek, the adrenaline rush and the smile bliss.
The use to play dress up, those boys who were once gentle but not yet men.
They use to want to be the knights in glissin armour, defeating the dragon not becoming it.
There were no mothers of sixteen or rapists of ten
No there princess and pirates.
They are not ambitious anymore, it is for a love of money.
It is a sickness that has been bred in by parents who are even sicker to the sight.
These boys and girls are the hope for the future but they will too have kids that should have never been and homes that will soon wither.
They want to grow up so fast that forget tha
How to be a 'Good' Christian. How to be a 'Good' Christian.
When I was a kid a lot of people use to tell me that I should do right things in order to be a ' good' Christian. This however is not true.
"All of us have become like one who is unclean, and all our righteous acts are like filthy rags; we all shrivel up like a leaf, and like the wind our sins sweep us away."
Not one single one of us are good, our good deeds don't do anything in our relationship with God . In fact the Bible even says that our good deeds are like filthy rags in Gods eyes. Now I'm not saying don't do good deeds but let it be out of the kindness of your heart not so you can get brownie points with God.
"Only God can judge me" ~Two PAC
The guy had it right, stop thinking your above someone else, we are all the same in sin. No amount of good deeds are going to change that.
Romans 3 verse 23: "For all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God"
Now I'm not on a trip to lecture you on your sins, no, I'
Broken Record...FINAL: Prussia x ReaderBroken Record...FINAL
Prussia x Reader
You sat at the desk in your new house, the faint sunlight creeping through the French windows. You picked up the pen and started inking down the words that had been burning in your heart.
Hello Prussia, it's been a while since we've talked. Time has done many things I see.
I've been keeping up to date with the news lately...I'm thankful you told me to leave to Switzerland. I worry about you every night. I still miss you with every heart beat. Theres so many things I wish I could tell you, so many things you need to know. One in particular. I hope time has changed things and that you feel the same. Please come visit me.
I'll never be able to get over you. I love you."
He reread again through drunken hiccups of a man consumed by sorrow. "Oh (y/n)...how did it all go so bad?" The letter had started to age due to it having sat in the dark of prussia's desk draw. Each time he read this letter, longing and emotion would swallow
Broken Record Prussia x Reader:Part 3Broken Record
Prussia x Reader: Part Three
“We’re going to lose” Germany muttered while staring down at the glass of bitter, golden liquid. Prussia stopped pacing the dimly lit office to look at his younger brother.
“I don’t need a reminder” Prussia snapped at him while his eyes narrowed to, two read slits. “You seem to forget West that I was the one out on the battle field, watching my comrades’ get...” he paused for a second “slaughtered by Russia” he finished, almost hissing at the young blond who looked sickly pale.
“Perhaps...perhaps we should surrender while we still have a chance” Germany said softly, unable to meet his older brother’s eyes. Prussia let out a noise close to a growl of disgust and slammed his fists down on the oak desk his brother sat behind. “Coward” The Prussia said as if it was the foulest word he knew. “You’re nothing but a coward. You made me give up e
Escaping Eden: Part twoEscaping Eden:
Seeing someone die isn't quite like the movies. Theres no slow motion , where time creeps by as you watch the scene unfold. No. It happens in seconds, it doesn't give you time to think or feel. And theres blood. Theres a lot of blood.
My ears were ringing painfully like there was ten tons of pressure on them. I felt my body go clammy and cold as a thick layer of sweat settled on my neck. My eyes were spread wide and as much as it horrified me, I couldn't look away. The white floor of the cafeteria was soon devoured by the crimson leaking from the deadman. It looked like some kind of murder case. His neck was bent at a unholy angle while his head looked gutted and mutated. I could hear screaming from all around me, a pretty brunet girl who had been standing near him when it had unfolded was screaming particularly loud. She was clawing at her face , trying to get the splattered blood off of it. The teachers rushed to calm us down like worried mothers but it seemed
Broken Record: Part 2 : Prussia x ReaderBroken Record: Part Two
Prussia X Reader
Bang. Reload and then another scream. Draws being slammed shut. More screams. A man shouts. Bang. Silence, no wait a girls crying. What was her name? Oh thats right, Amanda. A final gunshot. The footfalls of soldiers. Silence.
You lye still in your bed holding your breath, your eyes wide and fearful. Not for yourself. You yourself lye in the confides of your bed; the neighbours had been shot. What would become of Amanda? The sweet little blond girl whose parents had just been killed. You scrunch close your eyes from the connotation that crosses your mind, 'She's probably dead or she'll will wish she was'. The neighbours had been hiding a Jewish man and his son. You wanted to cry for their loss, they had been good people but no tears were left to cry. You shook you head slightly, your (l/c) (c/h) hair getting tangled further from your sleepless slumber. 'Will the rest of her life be nothing more than concentration camps and murder?' y
Hetalia Prussia x Reader: Broken Record...Part OneHetalia Prussia x Reader: Broken Record... Part One
"How can you be so selfish!?" you screamed at the man in front of you
"What did you expect me to say? That I love you? That I want to marry you and run away together?" The Prussian shouted back at you as he stormed into the bedroom with you hot on his tail.
"You know whats the ironic part? Its that once upon a time you were the one trying to convince ME to run away with you, not the other way around" you spat at him, venom in your voice.
"Well people change, (y/n)! Your the perfect example of it!" he shot back at you while tossing clothes into his suitcase, his red eyes fuming hot. You stood in the doorway wearing a plain black dress with long black gloves, he had told, no instructed you to wear this outfit. 'Funeral' the only word you were able to conjure up when you first saw it and ironically enough, it seemed fitting for the situation. You felt hot tears start to fall from your (e/c) eyes as you watched the man you though wa
The Crying Little GirlThe Crying Little Girl
You know whats the tragedy of it all?
That crying little girl.
She's crying for the injustice of it all
She's crying because she doesn't remember what it's like to be a child yet she is one
She wants to feel the love of a parent and she supposes that her siblings show her something close to it
While her parents fight about their broken toys
She's crying now because she feels lost in her own home
And the darkness in it seems to watch her when she's not looking
She cries loud enough so they can hear her hoping with a child's hope that they will come to her
But they don't like so many times before and, leave the little girl to become distant and hollow in herself
They reassure themselves that its normal for her age when really she's a little girl who needs a hug because she's had to act like the adult
She's had to grow up with the fights, the screams and the broken plates.
She's a sad little girl who will ovately become a strong one because there's no choice left
I AmI am single,
but I am loved.
I am not a genius,
but I am intelligent.
I am not breathtaking,
but I have beauty.
I am not a saint,
but I am kind.
To the world,
I am not perfect.
But for someone,
Don't pick a fight with an Artist
Don't pick a fight with an artist
Wanna fight pussy?
Give me yar best shot
Or will you throw a paintbrush at me?
I'm so scared- not
Excuse me? What did you say?
What is a punch you ask?
Of course let me tell you:
A blow with the fist- it's quite a simple task
Are y' gonna cwyyy?
I dunno what you just said
Why don't you let me show you?
I'll f****** punch you and then- boom- you're dead!?
Pardon? What did you ask?
You need a clearer definition?
Of course, let me show you
I'll demonstrate- with out your permission
Ouch! Hey no fair
Dude you are so gay
You write poetry
I'll make you f****** pay!
Discúlpeme? What did you mutter?
I'm gay? Is that what you said?
Perhaps you need some assistance, let me help
I'll be gentle I promise- I did need new ink! In the colour red<
All Her Little ThingsStop hating her for the littlest things.
The things she can't prevent,
The things she can't save herself from..
Stop demanding her to do things,
Things she can't accomplish,
Things she can't imagine being done...
Stop lying to her,
Telling her you love her,
Want her, need her...
When all you've ever done is make her want to
Stop hating her for the littlest things.
The things she can't prevent,
The things she can't save herself from...
When those little things you've done
Take her down...
The little things won't matter anymore.
lung canceri will die with your name on my lips
because there is nothing else i'll need to say.
you are my coffin, my funeral pyre.
as my bones disintegrate, popping and snapping,
you will greedily swallow my ashes
until nothing is left of me but secondhand smoke.
i've danced with you, love, across hospital tile,
the scent of antiseptic cloying as valentine's chocolate.
you dipped me into unconsciousness,
and i willingly closed my eyes.
the intrusion of your scalpel teeth no longer scares me.
you, my rigor mortis soul mate, always take me under.
your tent of frostbitten shelter pulls me down, an anchor,
while i gag on pills too abstract to save me.
forgive me, lungs, of my cigarette abuse,
but i've found happiness in a reaper's cloak.
i find comfort in these carcinogens.
i've made my nest in a swaying tree,
my body destroyed by the nauseous rocking.
they smile at me with pity in their eyes,
scribbling nonsense on those jaw-like clipboards.
their crisp, stark white world still has faith in me,
you've been dead for a year, my deari met you on december 21st,
the longest night of the year.
you had solstice eyes: cold, dark, alluring.
i knew you were not meant to last,
powerful as a gale but fragile as
the tulip stems you snapped,
a sickening cycle of you,
an overwhelming tidal wave.
they say two wrongs will never make a right,
but i made so many bad choices that
i wound up back where I began.
it was too easy to love you,
but getting you to love me back was impossible.
i clawed at your chest until I struck blood,
until my nails split into shards.
you were born a phantom,
and i, your corpse.
holding onto you felt like drowning in quicksand;
i fought but always sank into your arms.
i breathed in dirt, breathed in dust, and
found my organs choked with you,
smothered by your existence.
you sucked out my breath
every time i kissed you.
i died every day with your hand
knotted in my hair.
You left on june 21st,
the longest day of the year.
i bit down sorrow and deconstructed
the labyrinth within me,
the one you hadn't th
Mirror, MirrorMirror, mirror, on the wall,
Watch it crumble, break and fall.
Look at all the bloody glass,
How it reminds them of a severed past.
Watch a reflection slowly disappear,
Looking at all the shattered, crushed mirrors.
A breathless state of mind goes by,
Am I just alive or did I die?
Confused and in an awe,
Careless people unknown to what one saw.
Throat slit so one can't be unlocked,
Too bad the thoughts have become blocked.
Crimson splatters, dripping, breaking away,
Thou shall not know the feeling of all the pain.
Oh, Mirror, mirror on the wall,
Why did you crumble, break and fall?
Eye of the StormI believed I could make the wind blow,
and force the moon to shine at night,
create rainbows just by thinking,
and hold tea parties for fairies in July,
I was the queen of my own graceful lands.
Yet, I grew old and realized,
I am the kind of girl who'd trip and fall,
often for stepping on her own feet.
My crown of diamond and gold
now a rusted piece of bronze,
I lost my throne to treason, my kingdom to hate,
I became the eye of a hurricane,
loaded with mishaps I need to atone.
I felt the soft touches of angels,
and lost my own wings to demons who could crush stone.
Felt the scorching tears run so often,
I knew I must have hit bottom low.
I had nothing holy, no one to call dear,
but here I am, the starting point of my own storm.
I felt fear, clung to shadows,
encased my heart within marble walls,
and threw the keys that can unlock my soul.
So many chances I've lost with no love to seek,
and so many people I turned my back to.
I let the darkness gnaw through my bones.
A stranger walked up to me today...A man walked up to me and asked me for a cigarette… I told him I didn't smoke anymore, and he asked me why? ––I answered "because the person I used to smoke with, isn't around anymore", and he replied…"that's why I smoke."
A woman walked up to me and asked me for drugs, I replied "I have several in store…his eyes, his smile, his hands"…she whispered, "that's not a drug"…and I laughed as I said.. "if only you knew."
A child walked up to me today and asked me to play a game, I told them I was too tired to play games, i'd been playing for years, they replied…"then you must be a pro!", to which I said "yes…a pro at losing."
An old woman stared at me today, and I asked her…"is something wrong?" she answered "I was about to ask you the same question."
© Rocio Belinda Mendez
Wander to nowhereA ghostly walk on the autumnal pavement
Even my own shadow is gleaming more
Than the empty shell of my body.
As I keep wandering, on this endless pit
Picky starving crows are looking down on me
The leftovers of my thoughts order me to die out.
This path of glory I've kept away from, it might be gone.
My dignity and pride, where have you fled?
I'm searching for the graveyard of redemption
Where my promises are all buried
Shot down by my deceit's gun.
Will you ever forgive me?
As I'm standing there, the icy silence blows ;
As time goes by, the ruthless mutism of yours
Reckons that time for forgiveness hasn't come yet.
The Best FriendThe Best Friend
I hold onto our memories everyday like a photo withering away.
I smile at things which remind me of a better time, a time of something so astounding that I was unseeing of it.
I laugh because I know that one day you will be with me to share the joke.
I cry for I know that things have changed. Friends lost, joy faded and dreams a hidden light.
I keep on walking. The future will be a distant promise even if the present is a lie.
I live ... because you have given me the reason to.
Keep in Touch!
^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