Twisted

Story by ShingetsuMoon on SoFurry

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#9 of Poems

This poem is based off of a book idea that I have. It centers around a teenager named Jaime who has been homeless for a few years and finally gets taken in to a psychiatric ward by a social worker after trying to commit suicide. The poem hints at a deeper issue that Jaime goes through, one that has helped them to survive. But if you want to know more you'll have to guess! I can't give away too much after all! The chances of me getting around to writing this anytime soon are pretty slim but I do have it on my list.



Broken down. Broken apart. Broken in ways I didn't even know where possible for a person to break.

Shattered into a thousand nice little pieces all of them fine and razor sharp.

Black and blue eyes to go along with a black and blue soul.

Just a matter of time until the next family gets tired and shuffles me on to the next poor couple who feels like taking on a charity case.

Every minute passing by feels like poison in my veins. Caught between two worlds neither one able to accept me for who I am.

Run away and they drag me back again.

More counselors, more false hope, more lies about how my life will all turn around some day.

Just another homeless teen on the streets. Just another face lost to the crowd.

Just another statistic in an endless stream of numbers that no one cares about.

Just another innocent mind warped and twisted by a world that is far too harsh.

So I'll make another me. One who's strong and brave. Who stands up themselves and never let's anyone take advantage of them.

I'll create someone else to take the pain. A person who can take the pain.

Who can endure it all and come out stronger than ever before.

A person who's just as twisted and crazy as I am.

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Enough

* * * Angry. Irritated. Fed up. Sick and tired. ENOUGH. You try and try to follow directions for something that seems so simple to others only to end up with dead ends and useless rewards. Around and around in circles wracking your brain...

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In The End

* * * We are who we choose to be. At least that's what we believe while we are alive. But after we are dead and gone how will we be remembered? When others tell the story of our lives will we be the hero we imagined ourselves to be? Or the...

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