Every-Word-I-Type

I'd just like to say thank you For watching me fall For turning away when I needed you all. For everything you didn't do I'd just like to say thank you. And when I die Just remember Be proud, it's all your fault. And when I die Just remember To smile at what you've done Don't you dare cry. I'd just like to say thank you For your lack of understanding For running away from me. For everything you didn't do I'd just like to say thank you. And when I die Just remember Be proud, it's all your fault. And when I die Just remember To smile at what you've done Don't you dare cry. Don't you dare cry Don't waste the energy. You

we burnt these bridges ran away from these places. hid from pain and disaster in castles of paper, fragile as glass. we destroyed your hopes and dreams to survive. we are the broken the lost and the desperate, the wrong and the lonely, the ones you despise. still, we live.

Squeaking swings Haunt the afternoon. Plauged by a tentative breeze And the slow death of The fragile day. Frightened, the sun hides away Behind edgy clouds of grey Refusing To show the world its fear. As Summer ends Sorrow draws near.

We still have that old red swing. It sits faithfully, gathering dust in a house that, in those days, was only a dream. Sometimes, I wonder if it gets lonely, sitting there without a little girl to play with it. The more I think about it, the more clearly I remember the days when I wore pigtails with pink hair elastics and got scared of the terrifying monster that used to impersonate a vacuum cleaner late at night. Once upon a time, I was a girl who now only exists in memories and the dusty red photo album that sits underneath the wardrobe in the mess I call my room. But the thing I remember the most clearly is that old red swing. It hung pa

They came for her eventually, just like she knew they would. A large military unit stormed through the door of her unit, surrounding her where she sat at her desk in the centre of the room, guns pointed at her head. She had bought the desk at a garage sale for only 10 dollars, along with the computer that sat underneath it, the office chair, the keyboard, the mouse and the monitor. Of course, they were all now heavily modified from their original state with other parts obtained from similar sales and was now more advanced than anything else in the world. Other than that, the room was empty, lacking even personal clutter. This earned puzzled