WARNING!! Love is amazing, Love is a Pain

Love is a curse. People are so infatuated with the idea as soon as someone says the three misleading words, "I love you" they are seduced into complete happiness. They never look past the smoke screen that fairy tales have fabricated over decades and decades. Heartbreak. Pain. No one ever wants to believe those things will happen to them, but you know what? They will. I'm not saying I don't believe in true love. I really do, but I also believe in reality. I know one day when someone tells me they love me and when I know I am going to say it back, I will be happy. But in the back of my mind, I'll be perparing myself to them leaving. I have already suffered from the dark side to our only piece of magic and it sucks. Who ever really wants to believe in the dark side to things? All anyone ever wants is sunshine and rainbows, but guess what ladies and gentlemen? That's not reality. Nothing ever goes exactly your way, sure you might get what you want, but there's always a price to pay. You want love? Pay with your sanity and your heart. Watch out though, sometimes fate will repo the love they give you and you feeling empty and without a soul. You've been warned.

Divided We Stand

The world is falling apart at the seams, for we are snipping away the threads. This is because we fear one another, we fear the differences, we fear the change that we cause in each other's cultures. I gaze upon the world and watch as we destroy our home and as we destroy each other. What makes them so blind to see that underneath the skin we are exactly the same? What makes them not see that they are creating the evil they are trying to protect us from? Society has put up walls that we are not supposed to climb, that we are not supposed to bring down. Some fear what lies behind the barrier, but for me...I can't wait to bring it down and escape from this segerated world. United we stand now and forever has been twisted and mutated into divided we hold the weight of society on our shoulders. Now And Forever. Until someone starts pulling out the bricks.

The Thought of Being

The thought of being away from you tears at the raw wounds on my weak heart
The thought of being away from you brings me joy that you aren't around to stop me from running away into oblivion
The thought of being torn away from you makes my stomach turn into knots enduring the sickness of the absence of your embrace
The thought of being torn away from you makes me have time to cleanse my mind of the smell of you, how your smile brightens when our eyes meet, and how you slow your step to match mine
The thought of being unable to gaze into your eyes leaves blinded by sorrow and by terror of not having you there to comfort me when I cry out for help
The thought of being unable to gaze into your eyes gives me the time to take off my mask that conceals my inner soul from your ever-reading-deeper eyes
The thought of being able to love you with no strings attached makes my heart swell with the relief of being able to be held by you without any insecurity
The thought of being able to love you with no strings attached makes me want to run in confusion
Knowing this could never be true

The Everlasting Fight

I never really knew I had started a war by opening my heart to you. The war began with that first smile, that first sparkle in your eyes, but I was still unaware of the battle. When we tore apart, I felt my strength losing out to the force of your strikes, but you didn't notice, I bet you didn't even care. My heart was shredded into millions of pieces as I saw the way you ran after her, the way you seemed unfazed by her rejection, but you still didn't know of the tug-of war game we were playing with my heartstrings. How was I supposed to win? How am I suppose to pull with my strength being sucked away with every smile. So the everlasting battle rages on.

Have you ever even really cared?

Have you ever really understood
what I have to do, what I
have to do for

You. I don't feel like you

Ever realized when you tried
to run away, I was there
to help you pick up the
pieces.

Even if you were crumbling
into ashes being swept
away, I was there to
catch you before you
were gone forever.

Really all I am asking for is
that you catch me,
you pick the pieces
I have crumbled into,
All I want you to do is
to
Care.

What do I do?

There I am. Scissors in hand, the thread that ties us in between the blades. Slowly, I begin to snap it in two, but a thought rushes through my mind. The scissors clang to the ground and I run far away from them, afraid to hear the snip. What am I suppose to do? Should I leave you behind or should I stay, but know in the back of my mind that they disapprove? You want to know that thought that rushed into my mind as I prepared to cut you away. I thought of her. How she had cut me away like I was nothing, like I was trash! She had no reason. She just felt like I wasn't good enough for her anymore. The thought makes me fume with anger and makes the wounds fresh. I don't want to be like her, but the question is; Am I? I need the answers to decide whether to run or to put pressure down on the gleaming blades and send you into the wind, with the rest of those who have been cut away.

Them vs. You

Them vs. You
They are whispering winds that cascade upon my eardrums
You are thunderous bellows that make the trees quake
They are willow trees, whose branches shade me from the world
You are hemlocks who poison my mind with your troubles
They are rolling waves that help wash away the etching of my pain
You are harsh rain that stings my skin as I race away before you can reach my heart
Them vs. You
They are the light
You are the dark
They are the peace
You are the terror
They know who has come out triumphant
But will you?

How can I...

How can I be seemingly happy when in reality, I'm troubled?
How can I sit around and not do anything to make me happy, but when it's someone else's happiness, I jump to attention?
How can I help myself if I have obstacles that I have built obscure my path?
How can I not answer these questions for myself, but give advice to help another?
I need someone to help answer my questions, to run to me when I need to help!
How can I stop feeling like this everyday?

Confusion

I don't know what to do with all of this
I don't know why I have to deal with all of this
I don't know how I can make it all go away
What am I suppose to do?
How am I suppose make everyone happy?
I can't do it anymore, so why do I still try!
Confusion clouds my mind
Help me get all of this out
Because you've clouded my eyes with your drama

Questions

Why?
Confusion. Indecision. Suspicion.
Questions. Anger. Misunderstanding. Strange . Lies.
Dark. Unknowing. Fearful.
Truth.

What's the point?

What's the point of all of this?
Do you find enjoyment in causing all of this?
Do you seem to think that I'll always be there for you?
I don't know if I should be like this. Two-faced. Turning my back on the people who care
Not the ones who seem to, but never listen to my problems.
What's the point of all of this drama?
Why should we start of all of this.
I want to be done with all of this.
I can't seem to walk away, but I want to
I can't seem to have the power to let you go, but I want to, well I think I do
What's the point?
Once, you answer me that, I'll decide the fate of me and you.
Until then, I'll I think is what's the point?

Rejection

A slap in the face, the rejection stinging so much it makes your whole body numb with the fact that you weren't good enough, you weren't able to reach that person's expectations, and that you're a failure. Nothing makes you feel better, expect when the memory fades in the background, until someone pushes the right button to snap it back forward. Right back to the pain you felt before. I don't need people's pity, I can handle it on my own! No. No I can't. But I have to try. Rejection. A slap in the face. A stab in the heart. Reality.

Mold of Perfection

The mold of a star is made of perfection. Paper máched by crafted images engraved in the human mind. Held together by the stereotypes cold chains. Formed by the expectations of society and one's self. I do not fit this mold. I am not perfection. I am not made to be a someone's imagination of perfection. I am me. That is all. I have my strengths, I have my weaknesses, and I have my imperfections. My own mold will be formed from my own triumphs, and by my own expectations. Held together by the fierce drive to keep going against the obstacles of people's judgments. Formed by me. I have my own mold of perfection.

I'm not going goth

Some of you (Camden and Michaela) think that I might be going goth. For those of you who already think I am, well here's what I have to say. I, Sydney Elizabeth Curran, will never ever go goth! I could never pull it off!

How can you ever really know...

How can you ever really know who your friends are unless you ask?
How can you ever really know why you feel so drained if you never ask yourself what's really important?
How can you ever really know how you feel the pain, the frustration, unless you look in the mirror and confront your biggest critic, your worst enemy?
If you don't know the answers you'll hopefully find them in workings of a writer unknown to the public, a queen without a crown, and a girl whose just another face in the crowd