Broken Heart

All the truth has long been spilt

From my heart, corrupt with guilt

I used to sin behind locked doors

A love, a life I once adored

But now the tides have turned, and I

Do nothing more than drown in lies

The memories make my heart feel sore

And I wish they could lead to something more

But everything I ever loved

Is out of reach, too high above

And now my past life is gone, too,

Swept away like a waning moon

I will never be whole again

Lost all love, all hope, all friends

I will roam lonely through this world

Watch as others’ lives unfold

I’ll stand distant, alone and apart

And nurse the wounds of my broken heart


Plagiarism is a Crime!!!!

Hi, everyone,

I recently received a letter from a reader, informing me of a writer who had plagiarised some of my work. Here is the response I gave said reader:

Thank you for pointing this out to me!
Fortunately, this is only fanfiction, which means that I own no part of the story. Although it’s unfortunate that this individual felt the need to copy the story without any credit to the original author, the story was only an exercise for me (a sort of mental challenge), and I am a little flattered that the author of the plagiarised story found my work good enough to pass as his or her own. I would have been more devastated if an original piece of my work which I had already copyrighted were plagiarised in this manner; however, all writing is a form of plagiarism, I suppose, isn’t it? We call this ‘inspiration’, I think.

The ‘story thief’ you speak of is promoting my work with his name. Strangely, this doesn’t offend me. I find it a little sad that this writer feels that his own work is so inferior that he has to use the words of others, rather than his own. This way, he is stifling his own creativity to the point where he will not learn to improve his craft. Unfortunately, there is little I can do about this, other than sympathise with this writer and wish him better luck in the future.

Those of us who write for pleasure write because we have to. We have a story we need to share with the world. There are words inside us we need to share. After those words are written on a page, they are for the public to do with what they will. It is unfortunate that our name will not always be associated with our work. But we are really writing for the sake of writing. So, you see, the only one who is losing out here is your so-called ‘story thief’. He is losing the valuable chance to improve his own craft, while really only denying us a few minutes in the limelight.

But thank you, dear reader, for bringing this to my attention. I think plagiarism is a very real threat we need to be aware of. Not so much to the artist as to the perpetrator. Because we are not the ones who are losing the most.

And, as a further note to anyone out there who has ever plagiarised or will plagiarise in the future…yes, it’s easy. Yes, it might make you look better. No, you may not care that you are hurting a writer out there, with no face or recognisable name. But you are hurting yourself. It is easy to see through poorly-built walls, constructed from leftovers at the scrapyard. Don’t forsake the chance to make something of yourselves. Believe in yourselves, and the power of your words.


Creak

A.N. I haven’t written in a while! Please bear with me on this one. 

          — Beatrice

-

-

-

Late at night, when I can’t sleep,

I listen to the floorboards creak

Beneath the weight of all the ghosts

Who haunt the dreams I love the most

I see their faces in the dark

Eyes so sad they break my heart

They look at me, but they can’t speak

And so they pace, and floorboards creak

-

I can’t sleep in this house alone

The hinges squeak, and the shingles groan

The ghosts emerge in the dead of night

Fading in and out of sight

I see them there, but I don’t know

What they need, where I should go

So I lie there, curled in my bed,

And watch the faces of the risen dead

-

Soon I will join them, one day I will go

When my story is over, when my candle is blown

And then I, too, might haunt this house

Find another dreamer from sleep to rouse

But, until that time, I’ll stare through the night

At the faces who come when I can’t see the light

Though I miss them dearly, they won’t speak

We’ll wallow in silence, until a floorboard creaks


Sing

You left me hanging, left me alone

Left me in silence, in a darkened home

They said I couldn’t hold you, my love’s too pure

You could do better, so you left me for her

And I know I will never see you again

But it would have been nice if we had stayed as friends

And maybe someday you’ll turn around

Realise you hurt me, how you broke me down

But I won’t be there, because you let me go

And it hurts me more than you ever could know

There are tears on my cheeks, on my fingers, my pens

My glasses keep fogging up again and again

It’s crushing, it’s burning, it’s choking, this pain

That makes me wish I had never heard of your name

You’re gone, gone, gone, now, and I’m forever alone

Though I might move on, they’ll always be a hole

In my heart that you left when you walked out the door

Looking for something, you were tired and bored

And, maybe, one day, you’ll finally see

How much you truly meant to me

But, though I’d bend backwards to keep you here,

I couldn’t give in to the darkened fears

And maybe that’s why you had to go

It’s me, it’s my fault — yes, that I know

But I loved you so much! And I think I still do

Not that person who left me, but the memory of you

You’ll always be here, in my heart, in my soul

But never in-person, to touch or to hold

I’m sorry that things had to turn out this way

But I guess that that’s love, at the end of the day

Maybe one day it won’t sting quite as much

To remember your laughter, your jokes, or your touch

But, until that time, I’ll carry on

Staining my tongue with my tears and a song

I’ll sing through the pain, sing through my heart

Sing through the memories that rip me apart

Oh, sometimes I think that there’s no one at all

Who will love me a little without making me fall

And I’ll be alone, but maybe that’s fair

I can’t surrender to darkness — I’m fragile, and scared

So you live your life, and I’ll sing through mine

Sing through the pain until the end of time

Hey, girls of the world! Let’s all sing a song

About the men in our lives who have done us wrong

Yes, I’ll write the words, and you tap the beat,

And you, in the corner, spread the word on the street

Everybody sing, and everybody dance

Everyone love like it’s your very last chance

And, maybe by singing, I’ll forget all the pain

The heartache I feel when they say your name

And, though I sing off-key, no rhythm or rhyme,

I’ll be singing forever, because this song is mine


Demons Rise

When the darkness rises, the demons emerge

Facets of my soul I thought that I had purged

My heart starts to race, as thought of the undead

Haunt me in dreams as they battle in my head

Courage falls to pieces, and my spirit is undone

A nonexistent battle the darkness already has won

I have not the strength to fight it, the will to resist

So I lie here in silence, as my sanity twists

I’m falling to pieces, I’m falling apart

I’m aching, I’m dying, they’ve torn out my heart

They’re ripping me open, I’m burning alive

Is it really this painful when somebody dies?

The darkness surrounds me, I cannot escape

I’m running, I’m screaming, but it’s too little, too late

Quick! Run away, or you, too, might be caught

In this terrible madness the darkness has brought

The darkness is blinding, and I cannot see

Beyond my own madness, my lost sanity

There is no more hope, the demons will dance

Upon the graves of the fallen who never stood a chance

And I will soon join them, embrace them, as friends,

Because only in death will this insanity end


Never Move On

and there were so many things that were left unsaid

on that cold summer’s night, when you were found dead

the endless complaints of a purebred heart

that drown in its blood as it crumbles apart

each time that I think of the time that we’ve lost

my mind fades away, and my love starts to rust

i’d dream of an angel, if you lead a different life

but your soul was tortured, full of anguish and strife

sometimes i forget the blow that’s been dealt

all the pain i endured, the heartbreak i felt

but when it rushes back, my heart fails again

and, for a moment, i, too, am dead

yes — sometimes, in silence, i’ll spare a tear

for the hurt and the guilt, the anger, the fear

but never too many, for you are still dead

at least in this life, in this world, in my head,

but not in my heart, because i can’t accept

that you are gone — no, not while i still have these regrets

but i cannot reach you, no words for your ears

all the things i can’t say come out in my tears

and maybe i’m broken, but you’ll always be gone

and, try as i might, i can never move on


Escape

There was still metal, melting in my soul

it stung

as it hardened into solid gold.

And there were rocks

The gray-skulled demons of my forest heart

they barred my escape

they made me stumble and

fall.

i cut my chest, and the gold poured out.

Formed a fence around me,

binding me to the forest floor

a helpless prisoner

yet again.


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