musicxxgirl13

Anger Frustration The need to harm Punching the walls Fear of future regret is the only thing holding back the fists Hurtful words pour from bitten lips Your words egg on the monster inside My mind pleads for the cage to hold for you to leave me alone You don't Instead you push the all too familiar buttons you poke at the insecurities the ones I try to hide you bring them out and criticize Who are you to say i'm wrong and you're so great I only want to leave get away before things spin out of control but you follow It seems you weren't done You think your winning and with each bit of control I lose the cages bars bend

 Age is a peculiar thing. Most people tend to see it as just a number, however it is MUCH more. This 'little number' controls more of our lives than people care to accept. For example, this number decides what you can and can't do. A twenty-year-old will go to prison or be fined for the consumption of alcohol, but if this same person waits only a year, or even just a few days until they are twenty-one, then they can drink as much as they wish. Nothing changed, but their age, however this 'small' change meant the difference between (in a serious case) prison or not. A thirty-year-old cannot say the same things as someone who is twenty, just

"Three days, huh," I mutter to myself. "Well I better make them good."  I  stand  and  walk  to  my  oak  dresser  to  get  ready  for  the  endless  school  day.  There  are  pictures  randomly  scattered  all  over  the  dresser,  as  well  as  on  my  crimson  colored  floor.  I  slowly  brush  my  fingers  through  my,  now  thin,  soft brown  hair.  Memorizing  the  slight  tug  as  my  fingers  make  their  way  to  the  end  of  my  hair,  I  want  to  be  able  to  recall  everything.   The  smell  of  someone  cooking  in  the  kitchen  makes  its  way  to  my  nose.  Closing  my  eyes,  I  try  to  sort  out  the  distinct  smells.