Boolover09

I remember the image of the girl who used to be. I remember the downcast look of her eyes, the way she wouldn't look at anyone else. There was a time when she stopped speaking because every word that was spoken to her was harsh and unkind. She dropped her gaze and glared at the floor, hurting herself because she believed that she was too weak to hurt anyone else. Or rather, she didn't want to hurt anyone else. She believed that everything that had come her way, every scornful word that came out of a classmate's mouth, had come to her because she deserved it. She was a "bad kid", a calamity, worthless, stupid, no one would ever want her and a

I've said I'm sorry a thousand times, If apologizes were dollars I'd have a million dimes. I'm not perfect, can't you see? Every bit of shit always revolves around me. I try and I work but what can I do? It's been six years; after three you flew the coop. Into her arms where I've wanted to be: She may have had you, but she wasn't at all free. I'm frustrated and I'm tired and I'm mad and I'm sad Even through all the years, I've not once been just glad. It is never one it is always both- It has never been plainer to me that you loved her the most. So go on your way and just forget me- I've never been part of your plan to be free.

I have a habit of Walking on the curb When I go places. If it's not too dark, I glide on the curb, My eyes on my feet. I'm sure I get Stares and Weird looks. I don't know That I care. It's kind of like A small pocket in time where Nothing really matters. In between Safety and Danger. In between Grass/concrete and Melted tar. I've always felt Like I'm Caught between two worlds. I toe the line, Trying to work both Into the person I think I am. Sometimes, When I'm walking on the curb, I lose my balance. I haven't fallen In years, I think. But when I lose my balance, My arms go out, Much like my emotional

When he is undercover, He looks just like everybody else. T-shirt and shorts adorn his body, Glasses occasionally cover his eyes. Most people don't know who he really is. They don't know of his alleged temper, They don't know of his sweet side, They don't know of the look in his eyes when he smiles at the one he is with. They just don't know. But I'll tell you a secret; Just you, So listen close. They don't know he's a superhero. He may not run faster than a speeding bullet or Be able to leap tall buildings in a single bound, But he can save people. He saves them from themselves. I've seen it happen, It really is true. Wi

He would sit against the wall, Watching the others as they Rolled and leapt and tackled each other. While they were sock wrestling, He was playing Doodlejump. A while ago, Before he would sit against the wall, He would look at the my page and simply Wonder. He never asked any questions, Oh no, It simply wasn't his style. While he was wondering, I was writing. He is the wonderer, He asks in his mind but never aloud, Forbidding his lips to shape the questions that are Branded on his forehead. We would stand with our group, Smiling, laughing, joking, As we are all known to do. And then I did something I hadn't done before;

The young boy crept around the corner, eyes on the camera that watched the street. The camera turned once in the opposite direction and the boy sprang from his hiding place, ducking behind a dumpster before knocking on a solid metal door seven times. A balding middle-aged man opened the door with hooded eyes. The boy handed him a small bag that clinked with coins. "Your bribe," he whispered. The man nodded and moved out of the way. Once in the manor, the boy slid across the spotless tiled kitchen. He paused not once but twice when he heard footsteps in front of him. He heard a little-girl yawn and a mother croon "bedtime, my darling." The b

The year is 1984. I've been a senator of my state for many years, almost too many to count. I was elected as a young man, and I've been re-elected every six years since then. I have many responsibilities, inside and outside the office. Every week I go to church with my family. We sit up in a balcony with the other senators and then have Sunday lunch with the priests. Our nation is very religious-we all believe in God. He is our Father and each of us has a path that we must follow. The senators have the same high esteem as the priests-we are all His children, and we are all equal. Elections were coming. The inauguration of our President, or

Dear Lauren, Holy shit. We started this project in September, and it's March already. Time flies when you're having fun, except we haven't really been doing that the past six months. The past six months have been full of turmoil and crap that goes on and we can't stop it. The entire world is like that. It's about changing what we can around us, washing the laundry at our feet because it's closest to us. I'm amazed at how much as happened. "So? How are you then?" Dumbstruck. When I look at my right forearm, I see a short pink line-yes, it's still there even after a month at least. Maybe a month and a half. There's always something going on.

Dear ____, You really are a sweetheart. I've really gotten to know you, and I'm glad I have. You've saved me more than you know by just talking to me and being yourself. It's fun to be around you-something interesting or exciting always happens. I'm really glad I get to be in your show. I wanted to be in it from the very beginning, but I never said so because I didn't want to push anything. I didn't want to get into your show because I was your friend, I wanted to get in because I was the right person to play that part. I'm so grateful for your friendship. I don't think I've ever told you that, and maybe I should. You keep me sane during t