oneword.com

Promise, a single promise, easy to say hard to keep, although a great many people make them more often then not, they are broken. Simply because they are forgotten. Why is it so hard to remember a promise, but so easy to forget the events of a past day or even split second. Why create so much pain for someone when you do not wish to keep it? Why go through the agony of making a promise when you’re just going to break it anyway. You know what that makes you? A jerk. You don’t even remember what you told me so long ago, which wasn’t even that long ago, just maybe 2 months ago, but so quickly you forgot. You broke me. You broke my heart. If you loved me, why wouldn’t you listen to what I say? You told me you wouldn’t be alone with her, but you were. I knew you weren’t going to keep your promise, yet I trusted you. I loved you, and I thought you were different. Well I guess I’m wrong.

Posted By Astrid On 01.08.2013 @ 4:06 pm

He seemed to satisfy everyone with his kind words, but never anything more. That’s just how he was. Just there to satisfy, and do nothing more.

Posted By Astrid On 11.19.2012 @ 12:50 pm

“Rawr!” the little lion squealed hoping to get a reaction out of his friend but it seemed to do nothing to phase him. He had heard it all before. Yet the little Lion had no idea what he got himself into. As the elder lion stretched his back as he bowed down he took in a deep breath and let out a roar so loud it knocked the little lion back the feet. Startled he looks up at the lion, jumps up and leaps toward him, do it again!

Posted By Astrid On 11.09.2012 @ 8:29 pm

In the clearing I see a ghost; despite my fogged up glasses. I attempt to clear them to see it. But once the condensation was gone, so went the ghost.

Posted By Astrid On 09.18.2012 @ 6:16 pm

We wanted to be together, we wanted it to work out, we just lost sight of it and now we’re apart, together.

Posted By Astrid On 09.17.2012 @ 12:49 pm

Alive. Something I haven’t felt in awhile, what with every passing day, it seems less and less people see me, recognize me or even feel me. I’m beginning to fade into the background of life. Losing family, friends, even myself. I grow a little more pale, a little less caring. A lot more scared, as my reflection disappears from the mirror.

Posted By Astrid On 09.16.2012 @ 6:07 pm

Breathing hard, I begin to bend over in agony. Stomach acid crawling up my throat, I begin to heave, I swallow hard, willing myself not to puke. I reach for my inhaler. Why must I run knowing I have Asthma?

Posted By Astrid On 09.13.2012 @ 8:30 pm

As I walk home from school, I hide the sorrows of my failed test as I start up my iPod and put the headphones into my ears and begin to walk home, thinking about how I am going to explain this to my parents.

Posted By Astrid On 09.09.2012 @ 10:21 am

“The muscle guy in the corner is looking at me. Look, right there did you see him look? OOO he’s flexing his muscles.” She winks at him, “Look at those girls, they’re swooning over him. Why must I be so shy?”

Posted By Astrid On 09.07.2012 @ 7:28 pm

silence broke out, in the midst of a calm cool night, the war has ended nothing but the crisp cool air flowing down the backs of each man’s shirt a short celebration. A win in the heart of a true kindred spirit. He won her heart, and the heart of her family.

Posted By Astrid On 09.06.2012 @ 3:39 pm

The calmness of the ocean made me realise the stillness of the air. The cold crisp breath of night at the shore line walking with the man you thought would love forever, only to to find out…

Posted By Astrid On 09.06.2012 @ 3:12 pm

I want love. I want happiness. I want bigger boobs, and nicer skin. And, I want to be a writer. I want all of these things! And we always talk about want as GREED, and how bad it is. But is it so wrong to want the last cookies, or to be instantly perfect without a lift of a finger?

Posted By Astrid On 08.15.2012 @ 3:31 am

I feel like a fucking convict, running from the law, and it has absolutely nothing to do with me. I refuse to answer the door when the cops are looking for you. I refuse to open my mouth when the cops are asking about you. I am not a convict. It is you, and you alone.

Posted By Astrid On 06.01.2012 @ 6:42 pm

I never liked the idea of transforming into a butterfly. I’d much rather stay an ugly, unappreciated caterpillar. They’re the ones who get to gorge themselves into oblivion, after all, and I very much like the idea of spending all my time eating.

Posted By Astrid On 05.27.2012 @ 8:13 pm

If he pulls that stupid stunt one more time, I have every right to take his face off, turn it inside out, and stick it back on so that when he walks into bars looking for some young fucking pussy, they’ll see what sort of person he really is: one ugly mother fucker with a scary ass wife.

Posted By Astrid On 05.26.2012 @ 11:34 pm

I was leading him into the trees, unthinking and unafraid, but this was a mistake. I didn’t know that he would cut down those so precious to me. I didn’t know that he would use them to build a fire. I didn’t know that I would lose the only companions I had. Now, though, I know better than anyone not to trust Jimmy Feron.

Posted By Astrid On 05.25.2012 @ 11:26 am

I hate hearing the voices calling out in the evening. Everyone’s mother is standing on the back porch, shouting for them to come home. I loath their togetherness, their happy family structure. I swear no one will ever call out to me like that.

Posted By Astrid On 05.21.2012 @ 10:21 am

I was always curious about the always growing pile of pine needles in my grandfather’s back yard. There wasn’t a single pine tree back there, and whenever I tried to dig through it he would shoo me away, telling me that I didn’t want to know what was berried in there. Three months after he passed away, though, I found out how right he was. Hidden beneath those pine needles were the bodies of missing girls.

Posted By Astrid On 05.20.2012 @ 9:46 am

I don’t understand the basics of what most people are saying–not because I am unintelligent, but because they are so incredibly unintelligent and it hurts my mind trying to shrink itself down to such a miniscule size.

Posted By Astrid On 05.18.2012 @ 6:12 pm

I just used the backspace key about thirty times as I tried to figure out what I would write(the second time) for this word. How silly it is that an author exercise her skills in such a way.

Posted By Astrid On 05.17.2012 @ 9:54 pm

I wish life were like the backspace button on my keyboard. No matter how many times I misspell a word, I can go back and retry, but in life we all just get up in the morning and fail. And fail. Again and again.

Posted By Astrid On 05.17.2012 @ 9:52 pm

A ring in your ear. You get a hole punched in your ear and then you can get the ring in it. You have to leave it there for a few weeks and then you can get other rings in it. Most of the time they are nicer then the first ones.

Posted By astrid On 04.18.2012 @ 7:24 am

a ring inyour ear. You punch a whole and put it in your ear.

Posted By astrid On 04.18.2012 @ 7:20 am

it was way before my innocence was tested. it was way before i could understand exactly what was meant of those words. I had a life back then, when nothing seemed to matter, where everything meant that nothing had to be in one single moment. It

Posted By astrid On 03.14.2012 @ 8:30 pm

Paris. The town of my life So much inspiration from all the monuments out there. Eiffel Tower, Notre-Dame, … Saint-Germais, Cafe de Flore, Seine… I am so proud of being from this city I miss Paris, I miss my town

Posted By Astrid On 03.04.2012 @ 11:07 pm

sparkling

Posted By Astrid On 01.11.2012 @ 3:24 pm

castles and princesses and princes. chess and rooks. and bittersweet tea and long afternoons. roses why are there always roses they die they lose petals how is that romantic. dingy castle. abandoned. sad. why did they leave it was it beautiful once? i hope it was beautiful once.

Posted By Astrid On 10.19.2011 @ 1:26 pm

I dislike the idea of morals. I don’t care whether you have “good” ones or “bad” ones. It’s all complete and utter bull shit. No one has better morals than anyone else, but everyone thinks theirs are the best.

Posted By Astrid On 06.26.2011 @ 4:30 pm

I remmeber in high school I didn’t like history much. At least the class,. i loved watching history shows, and I loved watching national geographic and learning about the different wars. Especially anything from other coutnries. I wasn’t so much interested in

Posted By Astrid On 06.24.2011 @ 9:02 am

Lately, I’ve been wondering what it’s like to be embraced, truly embraced, by the one you love. Is it the same as being embraced by someone you don’t? Is it the same as being embraced by someone who loves you? You see, I seem to love quite a lot, but I never seem to get said love in return.

Posted By Astrid On 06.13.2011 @ 3:49 pm