I am the man who you met at the party. The one you talked with, laughed with, the man you went home with. I am the man you chatted with all night on your couch, the man who didn't touch you.

I am the screaming girl. She is me, I am her. We are one. I'm trapped in a world of forged security, haunted by my mistakes and tied down by the lies I've told. The story of my life is told so vaguely in these short words. See if you can figure me out. Each action is an emotion, each description represents something entirely different. A puzzle of the mind, a representation. The Screaming Mind.

“The day I died was the day I fell in love” -- A dying young man dramatically falls in love within the last moments of his life - not due to her exceptional beauty, no, nor because of the mesmerizing laugh that captivated him from the start, simply because she stayed with him ‘til the very end.

A collection of my poetry.

I am a guy . And when I find a diary , I intend to read it. So when I found the diary which my best friend who happens to be a girl , keeps. I read it. And it changed my life forever.

Ugly. That's what she was. And then a year later, she's stunningly beautiful. Beautiful is an understatement actually. What do you do if the girl you teased is suddenly the hottest thing to ever walk the earth? Addison learns that when you suddenly become drop dead gorgeous that people aren't always what they seem. Current cover by the_rose_of_virtue Seriously though read another one of my books, this is not my best work

Ever wondered why you are different? Why people don't understand and see you for who you are? Ever tried explaining but not quite getting there? Words, all soooo meaningful, are there for us to express those feelings. Feel the feelings, open up and see things for what they are.

A collection of poems about the ups and downs in life. I really do believe my poems are a easy yet satisfying read...so please give them a try!

I'm sick of crying tired of trying. Yeah I might be smiling but inside I’m dying. They don't know me or what I've been through, yet they still judge me. I've been through hell and back. I've seen and heard awful things. After what I've been through I dont see how they affect me, but they do. They call me the mute emo dork. I guess why it hurts so much is because its true.

(((Previosly known as: 'Begging for Breath'))) My poetry book. I have been told that these are very emotional, so don't say I didn't warn you if you cry... I hope you find at least one poem on here that you relate to... I, obviously, can relate to all of them... :)