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Mirror ImageToday I looked in the mirror.
A girl with large--blue-green-gray--eyes
looked back at me.
She didn't smile.
Her lips were tilting dangerously close
to a pout, in fact.
There was a sadness to her,
a frailness that I couldn't quite
put a finger on.
She was thin,
on the edge of anorexic, and long fingers
tapered into clustered bundles at her sides.
The girl in the mirror wasn't
quite right; I'm not afraid to say
she scared me.
It was a drawing, pulling,
kind of fear, though, one that
wouldn't ever let you look away.
How so I explain the look in her eyes?
Was it one of understanding?
Of hatred, even?
No.
It was one of understanding,
of acceptance,
and that hurt worse than anything.

if i die young"Hey Andrew?" I mumble, sleepily.
"Yeah, baby?" He grumbles back, fighting to stay awake.
"If I die young, can you promise me something?" I ask, almost timidly. It wasn't like I was planning on killing myself or anything, I just wanted someone to know.
"You're not gonna kill yourself are you?" He almost jumps up, but I push him back down and rest my head on his chest.
"No, of course not babe." I laugh lightly, listening to the sound of his heart. "I just want to make sure that no one will wear black to it. Throw a party. Play the songs you'll know I love. Invite hobos to mooch off my food. Oh and, most of all, don't dress me up. I want to

SecretsPerson to person
Spreads like wildfire
Some hurt
Some cause love
Some cause hate
Some cause betrayal
All cause a reaction
Good or bad
So should you take a chance?
Should you spill a secret?

Fall upFree fallen the choice is my own, I thought I lost my wings
But now I know I never let them go.
They were always there, I just never saw them hidden on my back.
Now it's time to let them grow.
Spread those wings and go.
Fly higher every day, on and on till you find the way.
The journey starts today.

Defense Mechanismsall those long nights,
staying awake,
[barely]
just to talk,
what a joke.
delirious visions follow you,
guiding the faulty heart,
if only there were no cracks,
[no fissures]
if more blood,
[more oxygen]
would lead the control center,
you would realize,
it was never real,
he never cared,
about the way you bite your pens,
or even the sound of your laughter.
If you make believe reality,
your blinding fantasy,
will not be what it seems.

Who Sees Me?Perhaps I'm seen.
Perchance not.
It all depends,
On what you've thought.
For truth is perception,
Fogged in gray.
For so many deceptions,
So easily hold sway.
So was I seen?
Or was it a lie?
No-one sees,
As I slowly cry.
For deception is easy,
The trust yet unseen.
With a clear perception...
You might see me?
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I think I may fav almost everything that's on here, all the photos and works are just... lovely and full of meaning! I'm going to check all of them! Thank you so much for sharing this with us!