Hey guys

hows life. Okay so I wrote this quickly this morning well listening to this song.

Disclaimer:(sing it with me in the tune of iris by goo goo dolls)

And I don't own PJO

And I don't own goo goo dolls

And yes this songs name is iris bla die blah die bla bla

okay my people here is the story dan dan daaaa


Coward. Weak . Worthless

Mommy help me, I don't want to die

Pathetic, useless , nothing

Mommy where is my happiness.

Idiot, retard, loser

I think God doesn't want me

Selfish, nobody, meaningless

Mommy please take away the pain. Please stop this.

I don't want to be a failure. But I can't help it

Why do I have to be the villain in the story

And I don't want the world to see me

The young boy sang softly rocking back and forth as heavy footsteps echoed in the deathly silence. The only other sound was the loud thumping beat of his heart.

The world is a cruel place he thought, my pain is a joke, my fear is weak, my life is meaningless. Would it not be better if I was not here? If I could vanish, my name forgotten like a sand grain in the wind.

Cause I don't think that they'd understand

Who could, the fear that threatens to swallow him,the pain that bubbles inside his soul filling every inch until nothing is left and the misery which is engraved into his skin like the scars he then again who would, who would take the time to understand. Who would take that hollow look out of his eyes and fill his heart with hope and love again. No one ,that's who

When everything's made to be broken

"Punk, open this f**king door"the Monster shouts, kicking at the door. Mommy I'm scared. Mommy, where are you?

Mommy I'm broken.

Mommy, why couldn't I break later, would I never reach 7. Couldn't I be like other kids my age, I've seen them mommy and their not like me. What did I do mommy, what did I do to deserve this?

I just want you to know who I am

The little boy sang louder ,covering it eyes and wrapping himself tighter into a ball. Please he thought rememberer me as I used to be. Rememberer the happy,chubby baby with the sweet laugh and the funny walk. Rememberer the ebony haired toddler with the most innocent big sea green eyes, and shy smile. Rememberer the polite 4 year old, who would talk to the fish and throw himself into the fire for someone. Don't think this is who I am. This weak, horrible thing. This useless, pathetic, rude human. If you wanted to call it a human, but I would say a shell that's all I am. The shell of my former self. The being with no soul inside, the child with the distant, emotionless eyes, that everyone can see is wiser beyond his years that has seen to much at such a young ripe age.

And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming

The bathroom door is kicked down and the boy is thrown half way across the room smashing into the mirror. Droplets of blood run down his arms staining the white tile floor. A punch hits into his nose and you can hear the loud crack of the break a river of blood runs down his face. He curls into a ball to protect himself and he sees a shard of mirror below his face. He gazes into it, raven hair slick with sweat falls over his face casting shadows and hanging over his Dead Sea green eyes, which have a manic tinge to them that he would do anything to get away. The blood is spattered across his face like a artists painting and his translucent skin is a light shade of red. A series of punches rains down on his back, bruising it blue and black. Not a single tear fell from his eye, nor will one ever. Because he doesn't deserve it. Weakness is not an option if he was going to survive. So he won't fight the tears that will never come.

Or the moment of truth in your lies

"weak , pathetic ,nothing, loser" every hit came with a punch ,a cut of the knife and a insulting word that hurt more than any physical thing could do. Pulling himself off the ground the boy limped-ran to the door and out of the house. Knowing the truth about life but not wanting to except. He wanted the feelings of safety, comfort, happiness but he knew he would not have it. No matter what lies he told himself.

When everything feels like the movies

He ran and ran before collapsing, from blood loss and pure exhaustion. People walked pass him, no one cared. No one cared about the young boy who lay on the street. No one managed to stamp out of their selfish thoughts. Percy, Perseus Jackson that my name he thought woozy from the lack of blood. No one will ever remember that name. He doesn't feel alive, he feels hollow. It's like watching himself from above as though this is a movie. He doesn't feel the pain any longer, he can just look around him. Seeing the clouds and sky in its true beauty. The sound of shouting and footsteps is blocked out , leaving only the sound of his labored breathing. He can no longer feel the cold hard cement under his body, the people blur around him. His vision is a tunnel watching the sun and it's bright beams that fill the sky. The sun reminds him of laughter, pools, cool drinks and fun. Oh how he wishes he could have that. In his hazy view, he sees the Monster tugging at his arm. Just leave me alone he thought let me die here in the sun recognizing the beauty most fail to notice.

Yeah, you bleed just to know you're alive

I might be bleeding but I am and never will be alive.


hey guys

what ya think bad hay

i woke up early this morning and wrote this before my alarm clock went off because I was listening to this it's spaz I know but I don't care so suck it. Still reviews and criticism is very welcome

Tell me what ya think all is welcome in the land of winged carpets

winged carpet