In the Eyes of and Emo

First of all!!! Here is the absolutely AWESOME banner made by  ♥Eva♥ I love her so much for doing this AWESOME banner!!!

 

 

Second of all! I do not own the Poem in this story! (The poem is the first 13 lines and the last 13 lines)

it was written by: ღнєℓℓσ κìттγ!ღ
Okay! Let the Story Begin:

In the Eyes of an Emo

 

My heart is full
Yet it has cracks
One little word
One little gesture
Cause the crack to get bigger
Until finally
My heart shatters
I wish I knew how to stop it
But that’s impossible
For my heart is no longer whole
It’s broken into bits and pieces
Caused by my heart breaks
My body has started to be come numb

Pain.
Sorrow.
Hate.
We all feel those emotions we’d rather not in our hearts. Maybe not often, maybe just a little at a time, or maybe it’s just a steady flow of it so you can eventually become impervious.
That’s not how it is for Emos.
We get judged when no one even knows us, we get dragged down by haters world wide, and, most of all, we’re alone.
We’re known for cutting ourselves and our outfits that we wear. People try to be like us purposely, with the hair and the clothes, but they don’t understand. They may look like us but they’re not us. They’re simply mocking us.
No one understands the life of and Emo except another Emo. It’s as simple as that.
If you think about the pain I spoke of just moments ago, you might have already made the connection, but most will not have.
We cut ourselves purposefully to feel pain, to try to feel pain, to lock out all our emotions except for pain. It makes sense in our minds; it makes sense in our worlds where you live lives like ours.
Most think it’s fun being Emo, how you get to be sad all of the time and have skills in poetry. You look “cool” as well. What isn’t to like, right?
Wrong.
There are millions of things not to like.
Our lives are different from yours.
You live care-free lives in which you can call things cool and want to be Emo like us.
We don’t want to be Emo, but we have no choice. It’s not something you choose to do purposefully, it’s something that pushes itself onto you as your life slowly crumbles apart behind you; it’s something that comes to you naturally.
Our lives are full of abuse and hatred. Our lives are full of things that you get one second of and you immediately begin to burst out into tears and fall to your knees.
Us Emos don’t do that. It doesn’t work like that. You want to go curl up into a ball and play your iPod in your ears as you try and drown out the rest of the world so you can escape to your own little world, but it doesn’t work like that. It never has, and never will.
I keep waiting for all the “normal people” of the world to finally get that; that our lives are different, that we’re different, but they never do and I have a feeling they never will.
My mind in blackness
That I can not escape
I feel helpless
Yet my body feels not aching
I wish to feel again
But I know it will hurt
I don’t want the pain
My heart is long broken
Long been forgotten
I have succumbed to the darkness
I can no longer flee
I am covered in darkness

My light has gone out

My name is Ash and this is my story.