Sitting on the back porch Staring up at the nighttime clouds Voices in my tortured head Once quiet become too damn loud It seems I can barely separate The truest facts from painful fiction And now thoughts I never wanted Cause nothing but endless friction
Why won't it rain so I can dance Every worry into the darkened sky Above my head the stars laugh at me As every memory makes me cry And I just want to let it all out Every feeling I can't express But if I can't find peace of mind How can I even begin to rest?
Sitting on the back porch I think I feel the beginnings of rain But no it's just those returning tears Little drops of falling pain I turn my head hopelessly skyward Trying to see where it all ends But it just keeps traveling on and on Lost loves rarely return again
Just wanted to send up an update on the fate of "Love is the darkest art" for any fans out there waiting on another part. Unfortunately, it is with heavy heart that i must abandon this project for an undetermined time. There are devastating aspects of my personal life that make it impossible to keep this as a happy ending kind of story. If i continue to write it will only end up as a horribly tragic tale where Draco doesn't get what he wants. For you see, my Hermione has decided after a decade that she loves another and it has left me completely broken. I had written a lot of my own feelings and romance into the story, and now my story is over. So i think it best if I just stop this tale where it is. I'm sorry if it leaves readers hanging a little bit, but as I said, to go any further right now would just lead to tragedy. I do hope to return to the story one day but at this point in time, I can't bear it. Sorry, dear readers. Truly I am. You guys have been great to me and I appreciate that. Please, if you would, just keep me in thought, prayer, good vibes.
Harry's normal nightmares were filled with DA meetings and the death of Cedric. Sandwiched somewhere between the two however, were dreams of Cho Chang, Cedric's girl. He'd already kissed her once, but she cried afterwards, leaving him with a weird feeling. Was he really that bad a kisser? Or did she miss Cedric so much, even another boy's kiss drove her to tears? If so, Harry felt eventually in time the tears would cease, but how long? He wanted her to feel like he did now, just thinking of her. He wanted her to feel the nervous, yet exciting murmurs in the depths of the stomach. He wanted her to swoon somewhere deep inside when their lips met again. For that first time he kissed her, that's how it was for him. A rush of something had overtaken him and nearly made him collapse against her. He fought it, trying to be cool, but what of the next time? Would there be a next time? He was thankful that the thought of her chased the bad nightmares away. That the memory of the softness of her lips lightly against his made him forget that Voldemort was out to kill him. When kissing her, it was like nothing else mattered at all. Was that how all kisses were supposed to be?
There's an empty me that’s only filled when your lips are upon mine. You bring to me a saving grace that pulls me back from the edge of dark cliffs, parting the clouds so I may see the sun. No one could understand the tortured me inside, but you do. Oh my god, Hermione. I think I love you more than anything. If you make me choose...should I have to choose at any point in time, I'd want this moment right here. You in my arms. Heart beating against me. Kisses devouring any doubt.
It all began with: "Hey what's your wifi password?" I thought it was an unusual request from someone i had only been talking to a couple days on private chat. He seemed like a nice guy, but still, why would he want that? To get into my laptop somehow? To steal my stuff? Personal pics or account numbers?
"What's yours?" I answered, thinking there was no way he would give it. I was wrong.
"aaaccenssst" he typed out.
"You're trusting," I responded, not buying that this string of nonsense was an actual password.
"I'm a good reader of people."
"I'm not," I confessed, then added, "LOL."
"Oh, it's easy. Reading people is just discerning what they want."
"Okay, so what do I want right now?"
He sent me an emoji. A surprised face with a question mark over it's head.
"See you don't know," I teased.
A few minutes passed and he didnt answer. I was beginning to wonder if I offended him. Just as I was getting ready to type again, he responded.
"You want to meet me in person."
I thought to myself that sounded conceited, but i couldn't deny it. He was right. I really wanted to meet him. He had interested me over our few previous chats. At times, I had marvelled at how compatible we sounded. We had a lot of common interests. Sometimes he could finish what I was going to say, like long time lovers who knew each other's heart and mind. When I told him my zodiac sign during our very first texting, he had rattled off all my characteristics and traits in a personal way. If he hadn't been so accurate, I probably would have accused him of just copying it from that day's newspaper horoscope. With all that in mind, I couldn't very well lie to him now. We'd gotten too close for that.
"Yes I do," I typed back, waited a moment, and then added, "very much."
I winced over that last part. I wasn't usually that forward or desperate sounding. But he was really under my skin. Even when we weren't chatting, I was thinking about him. I often found myself staring at his profile pic, tall, dark, and so handsome there had to be hundreds of girls trying to chat him up. If that was his real photo of course. I was aware of that possibility, but his profile pic at least gave me something to focus on while we texted.
"Is your profile the real thing?" I typed, when he didn't respond to my last statement. "I know your profile name is Morning Bub, but that's about it. Is it really you in the pic?"
"Do you want to find out?"
"Yes," I answered in nervous hesitation.
"Type in your wifi password."
There it was again. Wanting a password. This made me suspicious all over again. "Why?"
"So we can meet."
"You don't need my wifi for that," I typed. "You know, on second thought, why don't we just stop chatting..."
"Type in mine."
This stopped me. Why did he want me to do that? I'm no technology genius, but I didn't understand what this would do. Access his wifi? I still didn't believe the jumble of words was a real security password, but he urged me on, like a dare.
"Go ahead. Type it and press enter."
I scrolled back up in our conversation to get his password, to make sure I got it right. aaaccenssst. I started typing then stopped. Something didn't look right. Something about the letters of his password. All those a's and s's seemed to jump out at me and say wait girl, don't look too close. I noticed his password was in alphabetical order. I'd never known anyone do that before. It was odd. To me it looked like a line from one of those word jumble puzzles from the newspaper. My dad worked these every morning at the breakfast table. Sometimes I even helped.
"Go ahead," he prodded. "Type it, girl."
That last text made it seem urgent, like a junkie waiting for his drug to kick in. He really wanted me to enter his password. My fingers hovered over the keys again. That's when my eyes started putting the letters in place. One by one they fell in correct order in my head. A. C. C. E. S. S.
I looked at the keys. I hadn't typed out what my brain was deciphering, but I had typed the first six letters from the original jumble. I could almost imagine the guy in the profile pic grinning anxiously, as if this password were a key to a prison door. And that's when the last part of the password became clear in my mind. S.A.T.A.N.
Suddenly his user name made sense. Morning Bub. It hadn't been a greeting as I originally thought. It wasn't like, Good morning, Bub. No it was MORNING star. And beezelBUB. Morning star and beezelbub. Two names for Lucifer. Two names for Satan.
I shut down the chat window. Before he could type anything else, I turned the laptop off and unplugged it from the wall. My heart was racing in terror. I didn't know if he had been a crazy stalker or the devil in the flesh. All I knew was this conversation was over and he could find someone else to release him. Someone else to let him into their room, and possibly the world. The scariest thing about all that was I knew it wouldn't take him long to find a willing participant.
There will come a day When everyone will know Who I am dreaming of In these thoughts that flow The world that I live in Versus the secrets we hide No one but you my love Knows how I feel inside But someday I know We will no longer refrain And they will see us Kissing beneath the rain And on that revealing day We will finally be free To love who we want And show the real you and me
Oh fate, do not remove this from me These moments of sharing dreams Indulging desires they wish us not to have. I am but a girl whose heart craves his love And he surrenders it willingly For he does indeed love me. This is not a statement of pride Or even of vanity For I feel his affection every time He touches me with his cruel hands. Cruel to everyone else A touch of heaven to me.
Crying does not mean you are weak; it means you have remained so strong for far too long.
It means you have sacrificed your life to ensure others live their's, and it means you have put yourself forward to protect their Earth rather than conserve your world.
It means you have kept your promised silence that hush a friend dared to ask, and it means you welcomed the weight when your shoulders were soaked with drenching salt.
It means you have been sympathetic, firmly standing your ground to defend friends, and it means you forced yourself into exile when your effect seemed more demonic than caring.
It means you threw your entertainment aside to keep a little brother company as he chases fireflies, and it means you disregarded candle wishes as an older sister licked frosting numbering a younger year.
It means you chose to be the person everyone wanted to have but no one wanted to be.
Where every touch of yours carries love Every hand carries help And a tiny crumb satisfy all
Where hands are joined together with yours To help each other get the victory And they never stop trying Until everyone is smiling
You're a soul of precious aura gold Yet stained with sadness untold Broken Frayed In life's waves is tossed Still keeps good spirits Despite all you've lost
You're a wilted flower Carry spores of many lives. Found in-between the cracks of concrete And steel, The boundless love of a wilted flower Carries within its womb; The hope for a new life But even through the concrete, A flower learns to rage, To expand, Like a silent rebellion beneath the rough and Against all odds
You're just like a heavenly rain on a hot summer day Heart beating underneath shades of grey Band-aid to cushion wounds no one else seemed to see
Eyes full of tears and regrets, Looking at the moon with many questions Not afraid of danger but threats
Heart full of broken dreams, Soul with many fresh wounds and scars, Sealed lips with full of pain and screams,
There's a hope laced in you For all of us with healing desire
Even sunlight shatters on your shoulders in vibgyor And bless souls with hope.
Sometimes people come into your life for a moment or a day or a month or a year or for a lifetime but it doesn't matter how much time they spent with you but how they impacted ur life in that time. Not everyone is meant to stay in your life.There is a chapter for everyone who visit into ur life. When someone go, it means there chapter in ur life was that much only! Someday in the future you’ll too feel and see the lesson they brought you. Remember, "whatever happens there is a hidden reason behind it."
Dear December, You've come to an end and with that, ends the year 2020. I have a lot on my mind right now, but, at the same time, I am so tired of this mess that I don't even want to express myself further. I know how you feel, December. Sitting in the corner, waiting for someone to at least notice you and cherish your presence, craving for love and attention, like an ignored and overlooked child. I have been there my friend, I know how you feel. But, do you have an option? After all, we are humans, we're always busy either grieving over the torn pages of the past, repenting our mistakes and thinking where we went wrong, or either we're busy planning for the new year with eyes filled with dreams and hopes, making new year resolutions and procrastinating about everything we need to work on. We never really live in the present, do we? And after all these years, I am quite sure you've made your peace with it. But, truly, you are special, December. We do love you, it's just a matter of time that. Don't know about everyone but you do hold a special place in my heart. I don't wanna praise you or something, but, you are the month of hope. You are the month that binds all of us together in joy and happiness, after all. You are the month that heals the broken hearts, maybe. You remind us that no matter how bad the year has been, everything will be fine, eventually. You remind us that time stops for none and there's always an end. You remind us that nothing is forever, people, love, happiness, sorrows, a month or a year. You give us the chance to shed light on the lessons learned and give us hope that there's a better future. You are perfect, December. I can't thank you enough for making me realize that what happens, happens for the better and brighter. You are beginning to an end and an end to another begging. I will miss you and your cold nights. We'll meet again, very soon, with new lessons, new happiness, new sorrows, new beginnings, and new endings. Cheers to the new year.