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Literature Text
Pennies on my tongue and nickels in my throat
Quarters in the spaces where my eyes used to float
Green slips of paper peeking out from your hair
And hundred dollar bills lining all your underwear
Fill up on the smog and the secondhand nicotine
Xanax on my tongue and I'm choking down olanzapine
Memories fade but money lasts forever
Until you blow it all on the slot machine levers
Cracks in the sidewalk, pains in your back
Don't sell your soul or your mom will have a heart attack
Crushed into the asphalt's a pretty ugly way to go
But listening to figures of authority is all you know
Keep in mind that there's no rewind
Backspace,
Erase,
White it out
Make a decision
Avoid a collision
This is what it's all about.
Quarters in the spaces where my eyes used to float
Green slips of paper peeking out from your hair
And hundred dollar bills lining all your underwear
Fill up on the smog and the secondhand nicotine
Xanax on my tongue and I'm choking down olanzapine
Memories fade but money lasts forever
Until you blow it all on the slot machine levers
Cracks in the sidewalk, pains in your back
Don't sell your soul or your mom will have a heart attack
Crushed into the asphalt's a pretty ugly way to go
But listening to figures of authority is all you know
Keep in mind that there's no rewind
Backspace,
Erase,
White it out
Make a decision
Avoid a collision
This is what it's all about.
Literature
Frerard: Starbucks
Hi, I'm Frank
I hate school
I love music
I sound like the normal average kid
But also I like boys, yes I am a homosexual
And like a snap no body wants to talk to me.
~
I am having one of those days where you wake up to your mother yelling to tell you to get up,
You roll over and moan,
What seems like 30 seconds goes by and she is back, yelling, again something about breakfast is ready or you're going to be late.
Oh, the joy
You moan again and don't get up,
Eventually she is furious and yelling across the house so you drag your self out of bed,
Then grunt in response.
Just kill me now.
I sit at the table inhaling the spicy
Literature
Frerard Prt. 8
Franks POV
The first day of school is always boring, the teachers just talk about themselves and a bunch of other shit I dont care about. The teacher seems pretty nice. He didnt give us any homework.
My next class is study hall, with Gerard. Its only two doors away from this class, so Im not gonna get lost. Thats the only thing Im really worried about here, since this is my first year I have no idea where anything is. Any time I try to talk to Gerard about it, he gets pissed off or depressed. I did get a school map with my schedule, which helps a little.
The bell rings.
Okay class, wel
Literature
My Brother, My Hero
"Gerard, its Mom. Please come see your brother, he's always asking for you."
"Gerard, Mikey needs you. Please visit him soon."
"Gerard- Just call him yourself and tell him that you don't want to see him!"
Gerard played the messages on his phone over and over. Each one sounding more distressed than the last. His brother, Mikey, was in the hospital. He had been sick for nearly a year; he had been in a car accident. The impact of the steering wheel had crushed his chest and destroyed his heart. He was living off a machine that acted as a substitute for his broken heart. But he was never meant to live off it forever, and he was getting weak
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been a while since i wrote anything... i need to write more. sooo much better than doing homework.
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