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Cunning Linguist Jun 2013
It was quite the gloomy day for young Lucy. A very, very vile day indeed. Every day follows this same suit. This, however, does not normally affect her, as she has been hardened by her daily burdens at school; until today. We'll get to that part soon, but first let me tell you a little more about Lucy's life.

She is often the object of ridicule by the other girls at her boarding school, St. Chucky's School for Girls. But this does not compare to when she is at the mercy of Helen. Helen, the most popular girl at SCSG, everybody adores her, but not just that, they want to be her. It is not necessarily their fault, as they are oblivious to Helen's charm. Lucy even finds herself coveting Helen's life, occasionally. But nobody (with the exception of Lucy) can see through Helen's façade: That of a wolf in sheep's skin. Words such as "base," and "ruthless," fall short when trying to define her. Every time Helen begins a rumor about Lucy, it doubles as another nail in Lucy's coffin. We'll file this metaphor under "obvious foreshadowing."

Though try as she might, she constantly feels inept at handling her life when in the hands of Helen. She has attempted – time after time – to appeal her case to the adamant directors, but they – sadly – are hypnotized under Helen's such guile pretense. A compromise is utterly pointless at best. So Lucy primarily tries to evade Helen's clutches.

This brings us to the present, where we find Lucy crying in the comfort of solitude inside the restroom. She aimlessly wanders the labyrinths of her mind seeking the answers to why she feels so alone in this world. She ponders what she has finally decided. If she'd have had just one friend, maybe the imminent future wouldn't look so desolate. But this is not a happy story, and unhappy stories are usually followed by a very unhappy ending. Trying to anchor herself to anything she could possibly have left. …She fails. Oh well.

Losing her grasp on reality, and with a swift kick, the stool from beneath her feet gives way, allowing the rope's grasp around her neck to tighten. Her body thrashes about, fighting, but to no avail. Time flashes before her eyes as she blinks her last. Poor Lucy, she was too naïve to realize that suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem.

But don't worry, they'll eventually find her body. And maybe Lucy will get what she wanted: for everybody to feel sorry for her. Maybe all the girls will realize the damage they've caused. And maybe, just maybe Helen won't get reprieved this time for what she's done… Fat chance. Such a pity.
Cunning Linguist Jun 2013
It doesn't matter what I say; I'm never right - not to anybody except myself.
I am the only person who can justify just why exactly I choose to live my life the way I do.
People are ignorant, they don't understand.
Which is why I don't understand why I expect more from this world.

I'm a living testament to the power of contradictions.
Sometimes I wonder if I really believe what I think.

It doesn't matter what I do; I'm the only person that benefits from it. Selfishness?

I'm a prisoner to my thoughts and false perceptions of grandeur.
Is it reasonable to call them false if I'm the only person I know who doesn't think I'm mental?

Isn't this my life to do with which whatever it takes -I believe- to pursue happiness and satisfaction?
This is a blessing from God which should not be taken away, but this is the absurd contradiction of which we call "Life."
I seek purpose and reason in a meaningless world.

I see no point in trying to justify myself to anybody other than Him.
So why do I constantly strive for this? Are right and wrong (and morality for that matter), anything more than statues erected by man?
The life I live is defined by my own personal integrity and it is that which I believe I will be judged according to, and whether or not the path I've taken has been more beneficial to myself or destructive.
God does not see through eyes of morality.
My eyes have been opened and He has shown me the way.
Is this why I see life for what it really is, is that the reason why I am misunderstood?

People are too afraid to look for the doors to open their mind's eye when this world we live in commands them to be blind.

Who is anybody else to tell ME how I should go about living MY life - what I should do, to be a virtuous person or follow into somebody else's footsteps in hopes of acheieving transcendence?
Who am I to listen?
To be a zombie, never questioning the status-quo -

Is it worth fighting against the flow if there is something more on the side from which you've been floating away from?
I believe the answer is yes.
We are born into this world from true happiness - utter bliss.
Life is the river which carries us downstream, away from our nature.
Some may find what they believe they are looking for by not interrupting the flow.
But not me.
And I believe I will find what I am looking for in this journey I have chosen.
I will one day be reunited with that happiness of which I came from.

From playing both sides in this field of life, its safer for me to tell myself that I'm of completely sound mind.

Reality is the true artificial. Nothing even seems real anymore. Not people. Sincerity is dead.

I need to break free - but how can a flower blossom if it sinks deeper into the earth each day, away from the sun?
I cannot let this unfulfilling life consume me. I refuse to let it happen. But how do I escape?
Cunning Linguist Jun 2013
Laying here alone in my bed,
writing angsty teen poetry in my head
Because my words are generally misunderstood
and I want to spread,
a more positive message
but I feel like I'm missing something

Now I open my individuality to the world
by writing interchangeable verses
left open to interpretation
trying to impress her with my vague themes,
quick wit, and fascination with things
most would find less than semi-interesting

and so what if my self-confidence is tattered,
or if I only have an average sized ego,
contrary to what I'll tell other people

and even if it never makes any difference,
or if I never realize my potential
My chances with women with steadily decline
until I'm rendered undateable

I'll continue to seek solace in drugs
because I've never been partial to things like girls
and the act of reproduction

I embrace inadequacy

Its all the rage;
I'm the ******* cliche

And I lack social grace

All aboard the bandwaggon,
Because all my friends and I
have the same hair
and general outlook on life

Some people have real problems and some have lives,
I don't think I fit into either of those percentages

I'm bound to live without meaning
for the rest of my days
because I've ****** up everything
I've ever felt meant anything

you can see it in my face,
behind this facade I put on
Smile :)
Cunning Linguist Jun 2013
When I wake in the morning, the first thing I do,
is look at the sky while I think about you
you ****** up my life, I love you

And when we hold hands as we sit by the lake,
we hear the birds singing, and all I can think
is about brushing your hair over your ear...
and punching you in the face

even though, its been one year now
and a lot is changing and I dunno how,
one things stayed the same
when I see your face...
I think about someone else

oooh, ****
I love you...
I hate you...
I mean I love you...

I want you to want me
as much as little kids
want apples for trick or treat

Lets go see the world,
as we drift out of love
and go to Iraq...
so terrorists can blow us both up
(i love you)

If a genie gave me three wishes,
I'd wish to never die
so that I could think about you for all time
and then when you died, I'd cry...
because I didn't wish that for you

Then with my second
I'd bring you back to life
but then I'd have to **** you,
because you'd be a zombie,
my zombie...

With my third wish
I'd undo the first two
so we could go get married,
and both say "I do,"
and then have little kids that look just like you,
and then get a divorce...

I should have wished,
for a better relationship

But in all seriousness -
if I had one wish;
I'd wish for you to fall off a cliff

I love you...
I hate you...
I mean I love you...
Yeah I was in a pretty dark place when I wrote this.
Cunning Linguist Jun 2013
I've never had a love
so true as ours
Every second seems like hours
as we gaze toward the stars

Lets pretend for a second
tonight will never come to a close,
so we can just run away together
and never go home

Every moment we're apart
my heart skips a beat,
my breathing becomes weak,
as the ground collapses beneath my feet

I've lost all sense of time,
and my eyes can no longer see
-Although separation is akin to the feeling I get
when you're kissing me

Every time you smile at me,
the butterflies flutter feebly -
You've taught me to believe
that fantasy is more than just a dream

So take my hand,
and lets stare at the sky
while this teenage fairy tale
comes to life before our eyes

I'll be at your side
until the day that I die,
just so you'll never have to feel alone

Words will never do to describe
the way I feel about you
It doesn't matter if we're young;
This is more than infatuation,
this is love
It always is though right?
Cunning Linguist Jun 2013
One last breath
is all I'll need,
before I can find myself complete

One last step
is all I'll take,
before I find myself awake again

Why do my dreams torment me so?
my grasp is slipping,
I just can't let you go
stop, I can't be alone

Even when you're far gone
and I'm lost in solitude once more,
your ghost will always haunt me
with the thought of what once was,
its for the rest of time
your shadow will linger beside mine

Time is all I have left;
death parallels certainty,
and I know it will cross our paths

With one last breath,
and one last step,
time has run out,
I have nothing left
with one swift kiss
and one last goodbye,
I drift away,
and fade into the night...

Is this our conclusion?
Staring at this illusion,
we find union in seclusion
we'll be one in entombment
we're both bound to this forever endeavor;
we'll rot in the ground together,
forever and ever
Cunning Linguist Jun 2013
Not even the shame of our eradicated bliss
is enough to replace the image of your face
imprinted on the inside of my eyelids

My memories return me to a time,
when being able to call you mine
was more than enough reason
for me to want to shine

a reason to try,
a reason to fly,

and just when life was too perfect to be right,
suddenly you erased all my stars
and I was cast deep into the night

Why does this still frame remain
when I could not refrain
from letting you walk away?

Why was I so easy for you to discard?
We were so much alike
it ripped us apart

Now you look upon me with such blatant disregard
I stare up at the stars
look wide and far,
I can't find them;
I see only caverns of scars carved across the sky

It took until now
to figure out
life will proceed,
even if I never know how

to so reclaim this piece of me you took when you left
I'm incomplete
and this hallowed heart slows its beat in my chest

Since I'm a victim to my narcissistic thinking;
and you're overflowing with persistence,
unblinkingly let our flowering love blossom into this,
non-existence

You had been worth so much,
you tore me down such,
I never realized
you weren't ever worth a drop of my blood
our love had been such a burden in a blessing,
falling apart was effortless

This story fails to have a happy end
I'm sure the future will cross our paths to some extent
until then, I can pretend to let this image fade away
until it returns, then disappears once again
Aeipathy (Archaic) Noun. A continued passion; an unyielding disease
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