The Darkness

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The darkness, black, a hole that can practically swallow you if you go near enough, all strength it has is built on nothing but suffering, nothing put pain that comes from others, they try to scream but the darkness swallows what little hope they seem to have. Many beautiful minds ruthlessly destroyed, blood filled hands only visible to the victims it is.
Swords and knifes hiding behind his back. Lips curved into the prettiest smile, he lures her in, his charm is magic, not the kind with sparkle and rabbits, the kind that stains blood on your favourite dress.
He smells of cigarettes and alcohol, she fears for her life but it’s too late to turn back now her mind fights her, voices calling her reckless, stupid but then he speaks, all warnings are brushed off, his voice is music to her ears.
That’s what the darkness is, gentle but rough, quite but screaming “stay away” at the same time, it’s all the adventure and all the mystery, it’s a thriller with a sip of fantasy, only this tale does not end happily, it ends with crawling and dragging, with pleading and yelling. It ends with one broken heart and an endlessly tortured soul.
So go ahead walk towards the darkness, I won’t laugh when you fall into that hole.-H

Hi guys, I know it’s been a while since I’ve uploaded and I’m so sorry, but I got really sick in the past week. I’ve also been busy with studying my finals are in a month, but I’m still gonna try and update more, take care. And stay awesome.-H

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A Writer.

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I remember the first time I read something you had written, I was blown out of my mind, I was inspired and I told you that you were the best writer I had ever met. You smiled and said ” it’s because I’m the only writer you’ve ever met”. I didn’t understand at the time why you would never accept my compliments that came from heart. I never understood why you would never publish the beautiful poetry you kept stacked inside your “not worthy drawer”, I thought it was amazing, but for some reason you didn’t.
I never understood why you were always gazing outside when I was talking to you, why it seemed like something was always on your mind. I just used to brush it off and say maybe it was because you were an extremely observant person.
But the day you left, I wrote my first piece, it was short and full of flaws, but at least it was something. I realised why you never accepted compliments because you thought you didn’t deserve them, you never really put a lot of effort into the writing you just held the pen and let the ink do its work, it came easily in flashes and you wrote it down, you didn’t think it was good enough.
Whenever you gave me something you had written it was always about the sky, the stars, the sun, the moon and everything around us, I admired your work but it hurt that you never wrote about me, I wanted you to write me poetry full of promises and other cheesy romantic shit. But now I realise that you were a writer, you had seen the world differently, paid attention to every detail, you were not only a writer you were a dreamer, you knew that your dreams weren’t mine and we couldn’t be together forever, so you never made promises you couldn’t keep, you never gave me false hope, or wrote about my eyes, my hair, the way I made you feel because you knew that the day you left, those words would be all I would have, you knew how strong words are, the impact they would have, you knew I would think that all you had written was a lie and that you were just simply caught up in the moment, so you kept me at arm’s length, always at reach but never too close.
Now I understand that you were so afraid of hurting me, you hurt yourself in the process of saving me.
And today, I am just like you, people wonder why I never accept their compliments, why I never get too close to them, it simply because I am a writer, a dreamer, restless, I’m lost, looking for my missing pieces. And they seem to be scattered all over the world -H

Running.

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” All you did was run, you ran from what you failed to understand, you ran from what you knew would change you because you wanted everything to stay the same. While you were running you forgot to stop and look around, while everyone around you decided to live and embrace the change that came their way, you couldn’t accept it, so you lost everything and when you looked back, all that you could remember was running, away from the tears, the smiles, the laughter and the people who made you feel at home. You not only lost the people that meant the most but you also lost youself.” -H

Differences

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It’s like when you punch a wall with all your might, your knuckles start to bleed as the skin tears away from your body, you look up but not a single dent has formed in the wall, it remains harmless. That’s what it’s like for me, constantly fighting and constantly falling.
I wonder how the world looks when you don’t have to worry about how you look all the time, when your weight does not represent what you hold inside your mind, when your color does not define the nickname you get at school, when gender does not define who you give your heart to. And when your beauty depends on how far you can spread your legs or how much skin you can show through that dress.

But I’m gonna keep fighting and keep punching that wall until it breaks down. And so should you. Remember to never say something that could burn in the back of another’s mind for the rest of their life, remember to never look at someone differently because of the bruse they have or that large bith mark on their arm, their color, race, sexuality does not make them who they are, their attitude, kindness, actions and words make them who they are, and so do yours.

Hi guys, it’s me again and this is just a small reminder for all of us to be careful of what you say and do as it can be very easy to hurt others unintentionally, just always try to be kind and more aware of what escapes your mouth before its too late to take it back. -H

Thank You!

Here I sit staring at an empty page, waiting for it to automatically be filled with words. I try and try to come up with something, but it’s just blank, there’s nothing I can think of, I want it to be like the old days, when I would fill up endless number of pages with my feelings, I’d let my emotions flow through me and on to the sheets. But now, there’s nothing, I look around and it’s all just black, no color no emotion. Have I become a robot? Why can’t I feel?, Why can’t I think clearly?, Why am I so numb?
I know that my heart is beating because I’m still alive, but i don’t feel my heart beating, I don’t feel the warmth of the air, I don’t feel the blood running through my veins and the tears are dripping down my checks. Does this happen to everyone?

Hi guys so yesterday I reached 100 followers on my blog, and I can’t put into words how thankful I am for every single person who stayed by me and read what I had written. The paragraph above is something I wrote a while ago, I had no idea I still had it, I decided to post it because I wanna make it clear that my blog won’t always be the happiest place to visit and that’s okay, just because it isn’t happy does not mean it isn’t real. My posts will change from time to time, along with my mood and what I feel. But I put a a lot of effort and honesty in what I write, and I feel so grateful for the people who have appreciated what I have written.
When I started my blog I thought that I sucked at writing and I was no good, but I took a chance and here I am 5 months later thanking 100 people for reading what I had written. So please if you think you have something take a chance, believe in yourself and who knows what may happen. With the biggest hugs and a great thank you. -H

Words..

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Words, they seem to fascinate me, the way they join together letter by letter like pieces of a puzzle, they join together to form some of the most beautiful and heartwarming sentences. They hold the power to light up someone’s world or to shatter it completely. They touch our hearts and stay with us forever, as each one of them is spoken or read, we seem to never forget. As they ring in our ears like music to our souls, it’s funny how something as simple as a,b,c can hold so much meaning. They come from the heart, from deep within, with just a few sentences they can change the way you see someone, the way you feel about someone.

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Ever since I was a child words always seemed to blow me away, I remember once we had to learn the lines to Shakespeare’s play “The Tempest”, I remember all my classmates learning the lines, reading through them without giving it any thought, after all they needed the A’s. But I would stay up all night finding meaning to every word, falling deep into the rhythm of his writing, understanding how each word carried small meaning which added up to make something incredibly beautiful. All I wanted was to write, until my writing could fascinate others the way his did, I wanted each letter written by me to stay in their hearts and give them comfort when the had nothing. I didn’t want to be famous, I didn’t want to be remembered by the masses, I just wanted them to remember what I had written and learn a thing or two from the words I laid down before them. I guess that’s all I really still want.-H

277H