

the girl you metYou met me in my white summer dress the sun in my eyes and on my face...the girl you met
my face you saw and thought pretty
I smiled with you and you smiled back we were young and I was innocent I trusted you but why'd you trust me?
You were my first real friend I made you a part of my life you mistook that to be good
You held my bloodied hand and blood smeared your palm and still you walked on with me
If I let you undress me you'd see every wound I have hidden away pain that is hidden but still is me
I was a hurt girl to begin with &


I don't want to play anymoreA horrid state of being that is human Said to be the best at the top of the kingdom With thoughts, feelings and consciousnessI don't want to play anymore
What a marvellous form of wreckage Feelings and thoughts only causes hurt Existence becomes pointless and tiresome We persist for a few happy moments
Human beings require love and care some pretend they don't require this they however live in denial and misery such a pathetic need ensures hurt


pretty with youPretty as a pixie I am in your eyes fluttering and flying in your heart my soul is at home with you dearpretty with you
I scraped and kicked you on the way your hand stayed on the small of my back as I broke myself to pieces all these years
my head rests on your shoulders as I gaze into the clouds above
peace returns to me afresh with you


remodeled colonialismI took pride in being an island girl laid back girl not an uptight yankeeremodeled colonialism
I smelled the air and it was fresh the food full of spice and excitement
the people loud and vivacious they seemed to be fearless
I am not a girl anymore but a woman life does not look the same to me again
I take no pride in being an island woman voiceless and trapped in a remodeled colonialism
They ousted the queen only to sit on her throne elected to serve me but only serve themselves
My people what fools they really are impressed by the scraps they'
mind map

She Was Born PrettyI remember a time when the snow lay thick on the trace and You could smell the pine and juniper on our breath... Almost. And like frost, our shadows blotted the windows of my Highgate flat.She Was Born Pretty
We waited. Myself as a church bell...you as a ticking time bomb.
Your daughter was born on Christmas Eve. Jessy was tiny with brown curls and sad eyes... She was stunning, and from day one I was wrapped around her sweet little finger.
Contrariwise, you weren't ready. How can I be a father? you asked with your eyes closed,
And your fingers pressed to your forehead.  
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I'm a founder of =ShadowDeviantsClub
Love you all...
Marta
really appreciate it
--
*sprinkles pixxy dust*
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*sprinkles pixxy dust*
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Questo Pianeta non fa per me...
--
I'm a founder of =ShadowDeviantsClub
Love you all...
Marta
--
Lalalalalalalalalalalala...
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