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Catprincess


Catprincess
Bemus Point, New York
Member for 13 years
4
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0
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ABOUT ME
I'm a girl that loves to read and write, hangout with friends, Babysit, and sit in lunch and talk and laugh with my friends about the most random stuff ever. The rest of the time i'm really quiet and keep to myself but i love to make new friends.

INTERESTS AND FAVORITES
Books: Blue Bloods, Vampire Academy, Clockwork angel, The realm of the gods
Music: Sanctuary, Simple and clean (techno version), Grenade, Take it off
Movies: The Vampires Assistant, Journey to the center of the earth, Aladin, Inkheart
TV Shows: Criminal minds, NCIS, CSI NY, Bones
Interests: Reading, Watching Movies, Babysitting, Writing


Poetry
when death comes along
By Catprincess BRONZE
Bemus Point, New York
Catprincess BRONZE, Bemus Point, New York
4 articles 0 photos 0 comments
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Poetry
Never mourn too long
By Catprincess BRONZE
Bemus Point, New York
Catprincess BRONZE, Bemus Point, New York
4 articles 0 photos 0 comments
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Poetry
The Way I Miss You
By Catprincess BRONZE
Bemus Point, New York
Catprincess BRONZE, Bemus Point, New York
4 articles 0 photos 0 comments
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Poetry
Pretty Flower
By Catprincess BRONZE
Bemus Point, New York
Catprincess BRONZE, Bemus Point, New York
4 articles 0 photos 0 comments
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Art/Photo
Upside Down
By emmabr BRONZE
Columbia, Maryland
emmabr BRONZE, Columbia, Maryland
1 article 33 photos 3 comments

Favorite Quote:
Outside the station, she stands with her child on the side of the street, taking pictures of cars.

You think she's insane. Until, one day, you notice that she's taking pictures of the license plates of the cars her child gets into.

Because you look. But you do not see.

And she walks out the shop with bags full of cat food. You think she's some crazy cat lady until you find out, she has no cats.

Because you eat. But you do not taste.

It's been a while since their last album but he assures you, he's doing just fine these days, white flecks in his nostrils. Then he asks you if he can spend the night on your couch, even though it stinks.

Because you sniff. But you do not smell.

And they say "Just OK" when you ask them how school was. Then you wonder what they're hiding until you find their diary and the last entry reads "I wish you'd give me some privacy."

Because you listen. But you do not hear.

And they've got a bruise over their eye and you run the tips of your fingers over it and ask them how it happened. You believe them. Until it happens again.

Because you touch. But you do not feel.

And they walk past you everyday, one million stories, each waiting to be told. Waiting for you to ask.

Because you live. But very few, love.

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