Game Of Love

Do you want to play the Game of Love?
You’ll make the deals and I’ll call your bluffs.

You try but you always miss, you always miss, you take the hits.
The game is tough.
You strike and the target hits, the target hits, and this is it.
The game is won.

Even though I’ve lived a thousand lives.
I replay the levels I beat long ago, I don’t know why.

It starts with a kiss, with a kiss, this is bliss.
The game is sweet.
You let go of your grip, pray you don’t slip, don’t want to fall in too deep.

Broken glass under my feet, I walk along the empty street, the stars don’t sing when I’m alone.
We try to brace ourselves, but it still knocks the wind out of me, what do I do when your heart was my home?

I try to piece together all my thoughts, but my heart doesn’t want to sleep.
We’re falling apart at the seams, laying amongst our broken dreams.
The game ain’t cheap.

We’re all just useless hopeless things, fighting to rise above the sea, so we can breathe.
It’s never enough.
So let’s play this game of love…
Alone is just too tough.
So let’s play the game of love…

I’m so weary….a work in progress of a song to come. Or spoken prose if you want!

Dancing around all the cracks in the pavement
Trying to hold on to what’s real
Foretold my manner a condition of ailment
Why must the world tear me down?

Running around in my mind,
getting lost in the thick
of the brush, entertwined in anguish
Can’t find the light
I’ve been told that’s been there
I know I must continue but I don’t know where…

I get lost in the
Worried I will never be worthy
Don’t hold me so close
I wanna cry…but I don’t want to make a sound….

I’m so weary…I’m so weary…I’m so weary…God I’m so weary…

I watch you when you weep…

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So the Sun’s gone down in your heart and you cradle your legs in the dark.
It’s hard for love to flourish when it’s doomed from the start.
Healing takes more time when you’re caught in despair.
The embers or your loves flame turn ash in the air.
And as you sit looking at your open palms you cry.
You catch your own tears and always ask why.
No one can fix you, the power lies in you alone.
And even when you feel you’ve no place to call home.
And the lonliness catches you scrolling aimlessly on your phone.
And all you get is a monotonous dial tone.
Just know that in these times you are held in someones heart.
And lose yourself in all of the timeless tasks you call art.
Don’t worry about tomorrow, or yesterday that’s passed.
Remember that in someones heart you never come last.
And when it seems the rain hasn’t stopped pummling down for a while.
That everytime someone hears or thinks your name they cannot help but smile.

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Dew is crawling across my skin.
Hearts settled down like dew, with you.
The sun is beaming reflecting off me.
And you, shining in the dew, with you.
And every morning I feel so fresh and new, with you.
And if you leave me I might break in two, my heart just a half without you.

So bright, so light, the sun welcomes me and you.
In the night, the moonlight is jealous of us too.
How many nights can we spend alone?
Two hearts, two halves, torn from their home.

Now it’s raining, the sky is grey and I’m no longer shining.
My face is fading, hanging low missing the one who lights me.
And I am falling into darkness without you.
And I know you are feeling the darkness pull at you too.

Why do all these things eat at me when I’m alone?
Why can’t I be with my other half, and feel so safe with you at home?

A lullabye comes, then the dreams knock on my door.
They turn the door knobs, welcome themselves.
I can’t take these dreams anymore.
I know they come to you too when you’re sound asleep.
Why can’t they draw us together make you want to be with me?

Now I’m settled down like dew.
Waiting for the day I get to hold you.
Dreaming softly how things could be.
Waiting for your heart to come back to me.
We’ll mend these two torn hearts and make them one again.
Until then I wait wide eyed soft lipped holding the broken bits in my hand.
Settled down, like dew.
For you.

Who I am.

Here I am, in this place, cold unwanting.
Here I am, in this place that I call home.
Here I am, just trying to find the answers.
Here I am, feeling lost and feeling alone.

But do I ask the right questions?
Oh, do I know right from wrong?
And do I know where my heart lies.
Do I know who I am when you are gone.

And do I know who I am when you are gone.

When I am weak, I have to be strong.
When I’m alone, I do what I can to get on.
But do I know who I am?
And will I find myself again?

I want to know what you plan is.
I want to feel my soul again.
Can I fight this dreadful darkness.
Can I find who I am?
And can I find who I am?

I want to know what you plan is.
I want to feel my soul again.
Can I fight this dreadful darkness.
Can I find who I am?
And can I find who I am?
I don’t know who I am.

We’re safe and sound…

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We’re safe and sound.

Not a step on the ground, 

can be heard along the town.

Not a twig will break,

not a soil will shake.

Not a crunch of dirt,

no one will be hurt.

I will cradle you, 

and I will sing.

Of tales of old,

my voice will ring.

And as your eyes gaze into mine while you’re settled in my lap, 

I’ll smile down at you, 

brush your hair away from your face, 

and let you know you’re in the safest place. 

The way you’d play for me at your show…

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Ever wonder about forever?
Like the forever beyond your lifetime.
Like the look in his eyes for the first time.
Do you ever wonder?
Does your heart die when you give it to someone else or something else?
Or does it beat stronger and more feverously than ever before?
Does time stop turning when you die?
Or does it roll on with the tide?
When someone dies, do they take a piece of your heart with them?
Does a kiss give part of your soul?
Does love pass like the seasons?
Do you feel unreachable when you feel the high?
And when you come down feel like you’re going to die?
Does it all make sense in that one moment?
Or is everything a blurry mess?
Do you feel electric, in flame, in that moment?
Do you miss it when it’s gone or do you kiss it goodbye?
Do these questions pang you when you take that first puff?
Or in the dead of night when everyone is resting except for the stars?

The Free Generation

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Her words ring as the extremely catchy song plays. “We can’t stop, we won’t stop, can’t you see it’s we who own the night?” Miley Cyrus’s extremely contriversial song and video plays as an anthem to lost kids, or kids who just want to have fun and are ignorant to it’s meaning. But does the song hold some lyrics that ring true? I’m no fan of Miley Cyrus, except that she’s not afraid to take a risk and have fun, but unfortunately a lot of young kids still listen to her newly developed style, advocating drugs, and the party life.
The young age of late teens and young adults are some of the freest, and most fun loving people. Most likely this sparked in childhood, having also been through this phase and somewhat still going through it, most kids in the nineties were taught to be afraid of the ever changing world, taught to not have faith, taught that they were going to live monotonous lives of misery just to get by in adulthood. I find that error to have caused most of this movement of freedom. Is it wrong? No. Is advocating drugs wrong? Yes. Because we can have fun without them. Addiction is no fun battle and is just putting more chains on yourself. So be free my fellow young adults, but no drugs. Let’s do it the clean way. It’s much better when you remember the amazing times you’ve had. :)

Michelle Phan’s Possible Plastic Surgery

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Michelle Phan, a makeup artist and connesuir. She’s sweet, endearing, and motivational…not to mention very good at what she does! When I was 15, and very ill with something that put me in mortal danger, I was in and out of the hospital, and forced to be homeschooled for years. While at home, to prevent myself from dwelling on what I could not change, I watched this girl who had captured my interest. I had never known much about makeup and would just slather it on, but this girl taught me that it was an art, and she helped me to become a makeup artist myself after years of practice and watching her encouraging videos. One could say she saved me from falling into the depths of depression at the time. 

Now, recently, I noticed something a bit off. Still watching everyone of her videos, I noticed her face had gotten much slimmer, more long, and her nose was…different to say the least. I knew something was up. It was more than the makeup illusions of contouring that she had taught me, this was cosmetic alteration of some kind. Now, I didn’t think the change was ugly, not at all, I liked her new look, but I noticed her blatantly ignoring her fans commenting on possible work done. This disturbed me a bit. She’s always shared her life with her fans, why was this part a big secret? Michelle was all about telling us we were beautiful no matter what face shape, eye lid shape, weight, height…then why was she altering her own appearance with cosmetic surgery. And the more pressing question…why was she hiding it? Her true fans know Michelle is beautiful inside and out, no matter what, and this is what I believe. 

Now in the pictures and videos it appears that she had her chin shaved down to more of a point, possible cheek fillers, and rhinoplasty. Such drastic changes will appear even if one is trying to hide it.

Now we come to the point of why am I writing this article and why is it so important to me, someone on the internet had surgery oh my gosh! Well, she’s one of my biggest insperations in life. She’s the model of a kind respectable and self accomplished woman, and I have always respected that and wished it for myself. I am a little put off by the dishonesty of her videos by her not acknowledging she’s altered her appearane and leading us girls hanging on whether or not she did, girls that look up to her. 

A message to Michelle from myself: You’ve taught us girls to own our God given beauty, and some of us want answers. You look wonderful, no matter what you have done or not done. Your inner light shines brighter than any alteration you have or will do. None of your fans, I don’t believe, would foresake you if you admitted to them and did a vlog on when, why, and how it was done; it would actually be interesting. We support you, and your decisions, so please don’t stop being honest, we love that about you. From a loving fan, Brooke Mckenzie. As you’ve said from the beggining….goodluck. <3 

Enter Bellaluna…

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All I remember are the red lights. Oh, how they lit me up on stage. Each girl another silouette on another stage, their beautiful curvs painting a picture of pleasure for every man in the club. Were they smiling? Were they happy? Was their day totally shit? No one knew, not even me…it was just a shadow of a girl in the distance moving like her body was leading her and her mind had left her. That was usually the case. Even with me. No matter how hard I tried to be here, in this place, my mind was elseware. My body was making poetry while I just tried to be in another place. The floor to me was an escape, so was dancing. It always was. It didn’t matter how I was dancing. Or where. I was dancing…which brought me happiness in this cold, dark world. The only light any of us girls saw was that same red light every night. It beconned men off of the streets and into our grasp in their drunken stupors, and we left them paralized in our beauty.
This night wasn’t like the others though, this night felt different. This night was going to be very different.

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