Peace At Last Here settles the ashes Buried deep into the ground Of a #life that knew many lashes But never made a sound Bruised and beaten With many meals uneaten Hungry and tired The Childs features were mired Giggles and smiles were contorted to pain But For awhile They tried to reappear in vain The years ticked The thread of #life was hit and kicked The child grew But peace it never knew Tear stained cheek Red rimmed eyes comfort to seek Until the youth dies The fatal blow It made it's mark The youth moved to slow It was pitched into dark Comfort couldn't be given here In this cruel dark place To the poor sweet dear With a contorted face Out from the eyes went the light Weary thoughts ceased Gone from the spirit was the fight And finally there was peace

Critical Choices The choice is mine to make My happiness is at stake But still must think for another's sake Even if my heart it break Dread, lonely ness and pain to come Traded that for so much fun Maybe it will make me stronger Or maybe I've never been wronger Friendships will be missed But you'll move on and forget I still dream we kissed From the first time we met Wraith, hatred and resentment Became my only friends Traded that for contentment We'll see what happens in the end A seed of hatred never so strong Was ever seen before Correct me if I'm wrong But just wait and see what's in store Anger grew Heated puffs i blew The storm inside It never died Peace was no where to be found And In Bitterness I drowned

Loosing The Battle Why is nobody here? Why do they never hear my screams I'm all alone I fear And they won't come in time it seems Hands shaking Heart aching Maybe if they were here This wouldn't happen, my dear The noose offers sweet thrills Or peace from a handful of pills The knife whispers of bliss May as well try it, I've nothing to miss Reflective beauty, catches the light Poised a foot away from my chest. I'm so done with this fight Cause my head is so messed The tears start to rain As I tell my self over again This is what I want For my demons to stop the haunt But I know that's not true For see what I really desire Is for someone like you Your love I require But kindness and other many things I've learned to live without Cause no one offered any Even if I scream and shout So I suppressed all those screams And had many dreams But they all involved death And taking my last breath About to commit the act So here I stand That's a fact Knife in hand Plunged in deep Twisted to make certain Blood starts to seep Darkness falls like a curtain

The Unknown You cry for me You try for me To seem strong To be strong Now that I am gone But it is I who cry For you do not know In your haste That once you go That once you die You leave to a better place

Devil On My Shoulder Chapter 1 Fist I would just like to say yeah there's some crappy grammar and punctuation in this story but I really do hate editing, so this is unrevised. Any feedback, or criticism would be appreciated Ch. 1 Here I am packing again, seems like my #life story. In fact I don't know why I even unpacked. I guess I thought this was the place that maybe I'd actually stay but I was wrong, this foster family doesn't want me either. I don't blame them though, when I lite their car on fire I suppose that killed my chances. But hey better the car than the house, right? I hear Mrs. Jenkins, my short lived foster mom call me. "coming" I yell back. I grab my backpack and trudge down the stairs. In the two weeks I've been here, I've really grown accustom to it, ah darn I'm going to miss this place. After having said some hurried goodbyes, since they couldn't get me out of their #life fast enough, I hopped in the waiting car and started the journey to my next "home", even as I say that word to myself I can't help but scoff. The car ride is tedious, and I can tell being in close quarters with me is making the social worker nervous, yet still she attempts small talk, I really wish if people didn't have anything to say that they wouldn't say it. "Don't look sad, yes the Jenkins didn't work out for you but this is going to be the one, I can just feel it, can't you?" I can feel something alright but it's annoyance at having to spend the next hour in this car with this lady. I answer her question with a flat "no," what's the point in making up happy lies they hurt more than anything else. " oh..." She says softly, then in that fake chipper tone "we'll you really can't judge till you've seen it. They're a very nice couple, 2 children of their own and a dog, I think. They have a beautiful house and nice bit of land. Really trust me I picked this one out specially, your going to thank me, I know it." This time I don't disagree with her since apparently that won't make her shut up. After what seems like an eternity we make it to our destination. A perfect boring little townhouse,with a perfectly boring little garden where all the houses look the same. I hope the owners of this house aren't as perfect and boring, we won't get along very well if they are. You see such perfect people hardly ever have a sense of humor. As soon as the social worker's rung the door bell the door opens and standing infront of us is indeed a perfectly boring looking person. You can tell right away that she's one of those people that will always be sooo nice and sweet but everything is just act. Clinging to her youth is a middle aged lady with Dyed blonde hair, manicured nails, just the right amount of makeup and stylish clothes, that probably cost more than food for a small country. By this time a man in a suit who looks lacking in personality has walked to her side. "Hello, I'm mrs. Elaine Volkar and this is my husband Timothy, we're so pleased to meet you, come in." Ha, now that doesn't sound rehearsed at all I cynically think to myself. "This must be Darcie, we've been expecting you." I walk in and immediately feel like my very presence might dirty the house, it's so immaculate. Mrs. Volkar and the social worker chat about everything and anything, while trying to pull me into the conversation. "Can I put my bags in my room?" I ask. " of course, Jared! Come help Darcie with her bags!" A boy of roughly the same age as me huffs down the stairs. I imagine most girls would be feeling weak in the knees and describe him as hot, glad I'm not one of those girls. While I do appreciate the startling green eyes and dyed black hair, covering half his face, I'm not about to faint or declare that it's love at first sight. And once he helps me with my bags and opens his mouth I can confirm my head isn't going to start spinning. "what did you bring? A rock collection? Feels like it from the weight of this bag." I look him dead in the eyes and sarcastically reply "Didn't anyone tell you about my avid interest in rocks and minerals?"