"Hurt"
[NIN]
I hurt myself today
To see if I still feel
I focus on the pain
The only thing that's real
The needle tears a hole
The old familiar sting
Try to kill it all away
But I remember everything
What have I become?
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know
Goes away in the end
You could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt
I wear this crown of sh**
Upon my liar's chair
Full of broken thoughts
I cannot repair
Beneath the stains of time
The feelings disappear
You are someone else
I am still right here
What have I become?
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know
Goes away in the end
You could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt
If I could start again
A million miles away
I would keep myself
I would find a way
“Hurt” [Johnny Cash]
I hurt myself today
To see if I still feel
I focus on the pain
The only thing that's real
The needle tears a hole
The old familiar sting
Try to kill it all away
But I remember everything
What have I become?
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know
Goes away in the end
And you could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt
I wear this crown of thorns
Upon my liar's chair
Full of broken thoughts
I cannot repair
Beneath the stains of time
The feelings disappear
You are someone else
I am still right here
What have I become?
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know
Goes away in the end
And you could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt
If I could start again
A million miles away
I would keep myself
I would find a way
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Description
Inner monologue
Metaphors, similes, personification
Imagery [the 5 senses]
Dialogue
I was so thrilled that I beat the football
captain in a chess game that I made a
fool of myself. I'll never live that down.
My heart was pounding and my
adrenaline was pumping. When I finally
beat that big bully of a football captain
in a chess game, I jumped around like
an idiot, taunting him and laughing at
him in front of the whole school.
Arrogance and geekiness are not a
combination that leads to social
success.
"Your bulging muscles are useless
against my superior intellect!" I
laughed, as the vanquished football
captain and the whole cafeteria stared.
"I have captured your queen, and in
three moves, I shall utterly destroy
your king's little white plastic a**!
Bwaaa ha ha hah!"
Beware of sentences that seem to tell
the reader how to feel, particularly
when writing in the third person.
All the kids knew that Lucinda was the meanest kid
in the third grade. She was prissy and cute; she wore
bows in her hair and shiny black shoes, and she
thought that meant she could get away with
anything. She never exactly scared me -- but for
some reason she would always go out of her way to
torment me. I wasn't one of the "cool" kids, and the
few kids I knew were just the guys I played chess
with during recess -- they weren't really
friends. Plus, I was clumsy. So I was a good target. I
was so miserable and lonely, I could hardly face going
to class each day. That little girl made my life a
living hell.
When she saw me, she stopped; her ponytail
bobbed threateningly. She was after me
again. At the sound of the recess bell, I clutched
my chess set and dashed to freedom, eager to
win the daily tournament of outcasts. Of course,
I tripped in front of the whole class. Tennis shoes
and sandals stepped around me and over me as I
scrambled after pawns and bishops. And there
was Lucinda, waiting for me to notice her; she
smiled, lifted her shiny patent-leather shoe, and
slowly, carefully ground my white queen into the
pavement.
From the way she behaved in the
crowded restaurant, you could tell Sally
was attracted to the cute stranger in
the black shirt. She tried a few things
to get his attention, and eventually she
thought she succeeded.
Bored by the conversation, Sally tossed her hair
and laughed. That stranger had been scanning the
room, and he noticed her this time. Wait -- was
that a half smile? Had he just put his hand on his
heart? Or was he just brushing something off of his
shirt? Sally smiled. That shirt looked soft.
"He's kind of cute," her roommate giggled.
Sally casually looked away. "Oh, I don't know," she
said, twirling a curl. She let her eyes rest on the
artwork, the flowers, a random face in the crowd,
and found another excuse to laugh. Carefully
turning her profile, she crossed her legs the way
she and her girlfriends had practiced in middle
school. That ought to do it, she thought.