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Sleep naar de juiste positie
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Araceli

Don't be a prick.

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  • 67 posts
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  • 01-01-70
  • Leven in United Kingdom

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Araceli
Vertalen   9 jaren geleden

Girl In The Mirror? When I find myself staring into the mirror I see the the face of a young woman. The dark brown hue of her eyes, kind of like a fresh brewed dark roasted coffee. But they were glossy from tears. Her nose was awkward and a bit pink, it was a little runny from crying a few minutes before. Her lips, small and slightly chapped from the cold weather in which the area she lives. Her eyes twitched a little, as if she were to start crying. Her nose kept sniffling and flaring very slightly, Her lips, trembling and tucking into her mouth as if to stop herself from sobbing. She takes in a deep breath and holds this until she can clearly hear the rhythmic booming beats of her heart in her ears. As she exhales, she says "you're fine" under her breath.

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    Araceli
    Vertalen   10 jaren geleden

    It was that moment when I felt my heart sink in, this moment Touched my stomach As I listen to the blood pump through my veins, and the oxygen leave my lungs. It was as if the moment spoke my thoughts. The silence between us, It was a silence I couldn't have with anyone else. This silence, made my heart smile. It was different. It was a better silence. When I hug you, I can feel the way your heart beats, How genuine your heart is. Your heart beat tells me stories. With every boom of his heart, a word is spoken. It tells me when it's aching, When you're nervous, When you're excited, your heart tells me everything. When I kiss your lips, I can feel our bodies become "one". I feel my heart beat faster within every kiss given. Bringing us closer and closer. Your hands holding mine. Our fingers intertwine, Giving me butterflies and chills up my spine. I couldn't go a minute without holding your hand. Your hands were made for mine to hold.

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    Sienna Williamson

    Beautiful! 👏😘❤️
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      Araceli
      Vertalen   10 jaren geleden

      Better without me.

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        Araceli
        Vertalen   10 jaren geleden

        Why This room, it wasn't my room, or my kid brother's. This room had a tainted green wallpaper, with floral patterns of darker green. The room was quite small, maybe the size of a small shed. It smelled of dust and cleaning materials. The floors were wooden an seemed to have darker spots, kind of like stains. There was a bed, with only a mattress and pillow. There was a closet next to the bedroom door. This room, it had a strange vibe to it. My brother and I, we're in this room. I wasn't sure how we got here. We searched the room for something, that was another thing I wasn't sure of. This whole scene was confusing. As the squeaky noises of a car braking and coming to a stop, I assume it is the person that lives here. I feel terrified. My hands shake as I tell my brother to hide. We aren't welcome here. I hide under the bed, though I didn't see where my brother went, maybe In the closet? I tremble in fear as i go further into the darkness under the bed. I hear footsteps approach, they sounded heavy. I see the bedroom door open, while a pair of black dress shoes step into the room. He walks toward the closet, I stop breathing for a moment. Only In fear of him discovering my brother in the closet. Then it happens, the man, I hear him grab my brother and throw him onto the floor. My brother begging and pleading to let him live. He's only 16. I, 17. I scream, " stop!" I crawl from under the bed and grab my brother. With my hand in front of me, begging the man to just let us leave. He pulls my brother away from me by his leg, then carries him by his shirt. I looked at my brothers shirt, it was his favorite shirt, His favorite Flannel too. As the man held my brother up, he said something directed towards me, and I'll never forget hat he said. "You're worthless. You can't even save your little brother. You're supposed to be save him." My eyes seems as if I had widen them, I cry. The tears, they seem to be never ending. This moment felt like a #lifetime. The man chuckled and pulled out a knife. All I could do was corner myself and cry. I pleaded. Over and over again I said, "please! no! Take me! Not my brother!" I watched this man slit my little brothers throat. He killed him, a If he had done it a million times. I sobbed, repeatedly saying, "NO!! Why him! Why did you take him away from me!" I saw my brother grab his throat and drop to his knees, choking on his own blood. I could see the fear In his eyes. The man sat on the bed cleaning his knife. I cover my mouth, so shocked I can't barely move. My brother, his blood, it was everywhere. It stained his shirt. He fell to the floor. Blood still spilling out of his neck like a water fountain. His blood reached my feet. I looked at the man in terror, "why" The man smirked, "it's your turn." He grabbed me by my hair and I closed my eyes. Waiting, for when I'd be dead. I woke up crying and pleading "no!"

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          Araceli
          Vertalen   10 jaren geleden

          I know, I'm not much. I can't write within a poetic pattern. My words make no sense. But it keeps me sane.

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