Post has shared content


How old do you guys think the earth really is?

Post has attachment

Post has attachment

Post has attachment
DYED MY HAIR GUYS!!! What do you guys think? bad pics i know but... still
2 Photos - View album

Post has shared content

Post has attachment
THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH FOR CELABRATING MY BIRTHDAY WITH ME +Alexandra Stephenson +Nathen Talley +Catherine N +Ali Novelli

Post has shared content

So I wrote a poem. I know I don not post a lot. I know that my poetry is less than par. I know that you probably don't read any posts this long. But it needs to be said. This poem is based on something that happened  yesterday. It's about my cousin, from my pov. I would offer further explanation, but I think it's pretty self evident , +Night Raven  you were right, I'm not okay. Orthodox Teens Community: If this post is irrelevant to the community, feel free to take it down. I just need to share this and ask for prayers for my cousin. Thank you anyone who reads this.

Shards of Pain
by Sparrow Azonia 

Your little arms
so strong and warm, 
wrapped round with
bracelets and other pretty trinkets
(that not so many years ago
with rattles were adorned;
reached for tiny feet--
not yet careworn--)
Now Sliced

with a shard
of something sharp,
secret and stolen away,
hidden from the wise eyes
of adults.
Adults like her, who left you
--to grow up apart,
for some drug;
secret and stolen away.

You were not taught
such a thing; to fling
all your pain into a blade
and slice away
at the the thing
they've driven you to hate;

you didn't learn 
the way to carve:
you channel your pain--
the invisible scars--
and bring them to life
with the vein in your arm.
Your blood cries out:
"don't ask, don't tell!
Inside me is a living hell.
Abandoned and alone,
the trap--I fell,
and now I hate myself
as well."
You never thought it could do any harm.

You take the blame to your heart
and the blade to your arm!

I think, as I hear you speak 
so softly, thoughtfully of the slash;
how there only stand
five years lifespan
between us,
and I ask you in a fright--
forget the tears in my eyes--
why you would slice your own arm.

What a vile twist of fate!
That you should plunge
so much hate
into your heart to cause you harm.


With defending horror
sinking to the place it rests
at the bottom of my chest,
I know not what lies in store.

Bracelets, trinkets, beads, shoved back
that your outer side adorn,
I thank God that nothing's there,
then remember the burdens you bear
and I'm sure
your heart is heavy

with lifeless marks,
all vying for a place in the dark
you cannot fold away;
seeing the light of a summer day
will only worsen the pain.

I snatch the shard of glass
that cut
your little arm 
and shut
the door as I dash out,
within my heart tears spilling,
but outwardly composed.
I find a place-a garbage bin-
I think you least likely to root in
and burry deep the lightning rod
that conducts your anger and your fears
and in your skin leaves gaping tears.

I drag you out into the hall
and beg you not to feel

with blades,

words are a stronger 
way to heal.

Then you speak her name aloud,
the nine-month bond between you strong.
You speak of it and all the anger
you hold for her who did you wrong.

Then dragged up from the depths 
the darkness and the pain 
fall in tears, 
a sanctifying rain
that clears
the dreading from my heart.

You weep into your hands 
and land
in my open arms
and I hold you for awhile:
small, fragile, like a child,
but the burden of a man
not of a little girl
rests upon your shoulders.

So I remind you that the pain,
if you choose someone to give it to
is a burden you can share
with the people who love you.

"So go outside and sing a song,
may the wind carry your pain away--far,
and may the sunshine of an autumn day
heal all your scars."

Forgive me.
Wait while more posts are being loaded