angelsparks

That's when he stood up, wiped his tears, walked over to his desk
and got a pen and a notepad
He just couldn't see it getting any better
So on a cold dark night in December, Steven knew exactly what he had to do
But first he sat down and wrote a couple letters
One to his step-dad, one to his mother,
couple to the kids at
school, one to his brother
Bringing them the pain that they once brought him
tear drops on the paper one after another
Yeah, I hope that you all feel guilty.
Cause I'm broken now and you can't heal me
And now you're all an accomplice in murder
each and every one of you has chipped in to kill me
So the reason that I'm writing you this evening,
is to say goodbye and to tell you that I'm leaving
But don't hold your breath
use I ain't never coming back
Sincerely yours, Steven 

we think we're make of numbers. percentages, grades, pounds on a scale,
likes on a photo, scores, price tages on clothes. but we're not. we are made
of love, and family and friends. the way our eyes light up when we talk about
something we're really passionate about. we're made of happiness and
warm memories, late nights and past-curfews. jokes, stories,  and dreams.
we have more substance than numbers. 

Think before you go and judge someone who is a diffrent race than you or tell someone they shouldnt date someone of a diffrent race. Its rude. Whoever agrees with me add this to faves and whoever doesnt thats ur prob

 

one day you're going to see

a cute and he's gonna become your boyfriend or husband and he won't be just another cute boy added to the list of guys that ignored you



 

Describe the color red without using the word red.
When you dip her in the middle of the dance floor, it is the color of her dress.
When she whispers in your ear, it is the color of her lips.
When you make love, it is the trace you want her to leave  all over your body.
When she places her palm over your heart, it is the color that comes to the surface as her fingerprints trail like a sentence that can never be finished.
When you see her in your bedroom with another, it is the color of your breath.
When you smash the vase in the hall, it is thr color that threatens to abandon the shattered pieces.
When you scream at the top of your lungs, it is the color that pierces the atmosphere.
When she hears you, it is the color of her pulse.
When you look in her eyes for the last time, it is the fading color of your heart falling to your knees.
It is not the color when you leave.



 

To some people, hugs are a sign of love and affection.




Or even just an expression of sorrow or emotion.
To me, there is more meaning behind them.
Every person I hug always leaves, one way or another.
I secretly love hugs but I refuse to accept them.
I just want one person to prove to me that not everyone leaves.
That they won't leave me after they hug me.