When Love is a Liewhen you said you loved meI wish you didn't lieall those times I've thought of younow regret lives in my mindall that time I've wastedall those tears I've criedthis is the last you will hear of my loveI will not give you a second trybecause when you said you loved meSomething didn't feel rightand all those times you hugged meyou never held on too tightall those times you kissed meit felt like our last sceneall those times we made loveit just felt like a dreamthen reality came crashingthen the storms grew darkand all that I was really left withwas loneliness and a broken heart
wordsFeel my wordsnot only through my mindbut my heart as wellbecause they are involvedequallythey share different meaningsall leading towards one purposetruly hear my wordswhat I have to sayalthough not much is saidall should be heardbecause every tiny piece is important as the next
invisibleits like i can disappearwalk awayno one will know i was hereinto the shadows i fadeto live the remainder of my days
a lonely hearttake my hearti dont want itits yoursi wish to not feelfor my feelings ache for youone thing i cannot have
cagedI'm drowning in my tearschoking on my fearsdieingscreamingpleadingjust please let me go
releaseshe crys herself to sleepalmost every nightshe tries to hold it backshe tries to put up a fightbut in the end shes lostconsuming her, the tears fallwhat will be the costto let it be the end of it all
let it bleedi did something im not proud ofa cuta slashheretherejust asking it to take the pain away once more
another letter to myselfhard to breathwhen i see your namewhen i hear your laughi just go insanetrying to smilewhen all i do is crytrying to livewhen i have no life
chapter 3: blood sweat and tears Catalina grasped at Demetri tightly as they ran. At this point, being alone was the last thing she wanted. Catalina knew that he would keep her safe the best he possibly could. Her head raced around, all these nightmareish creatures scurrying through the paths. Screams of dieing and frantic students could be heard along with the shrieks of whatever was in here with all of them, which could be anything now. Who knows what could be in this school. They took a right down one of the hallways and stopped dead in their tracks. At the end of this path, there was a creature laying in a position of a cat when it's sleeping, all curled in a little ball. Shards of glass and metal protruded from its skin. The akin where the metal was seemed to be rusted and decayed with encrusted blood along the edges. The glass wounds though, were alive, dripping with crimson blood. It looked as if they were new, not supposed to be there. ALmost as if someone was tyring to kill it, but obviously failed. Bo
PerfectionYour ego wants.It is sometimes disguisedas your heartor your mind.butYOU don't want.you simply A R EYour worldly desires tell youthat you could bericherprettierhappierwhen everything you needyou already have.
if only for the night.she did notwant love, she wantedthorns twisted in hersteel fingersdigging into thesharp metal. sheneeded to b r e a kpeople. and she hadthe devil in hereyes and death onher skin:a walkingdisaster. shetasted likedanger incarnated;i knew by theway she wrapped herhands around mywrists she coulddestroy me. sn / ap mybones at will butshe never did andthe blue of her eyesdrownedme inchangingtides ofliquid fire. we spent one nightstaring at theceiling tracingconstellationson paper-skin andpretending to beartists of the universejust to feelalive.(before she left welay side by side at dawn withour chests splintered.)
Dirty Brother KillerMy bro...He believed thatYou were good...But I know the truth...You enjoy seeing us die,Covered in the color crimson,While laughing at us,Screaming in pain,And agony...Frisk...All of us cared,Protected,And even loved you.But after Papyrus-...I know...In this very moment...Your going to hell...And there's nothing...That will stop me from doing it...DIRTY BROTHER KILLER!
A world of porcelain peopleWe live ina world fullof prettyfaçades; everyoneis a livingmasqueradein thisday and age:pick up yoursmiling faceat daybreak anddrape it over theviolet stainsbeneath youreyelids;walk aroundaimlessly -we are allsleepwalkers,eyes open butclosed.we are all pretty porcelain peopleliving in a pretty porcelain worldand our masksare startingto crack.(and reveal the ugly truth)
Depression Isn't RealDepression isn’t true, my dearDepression isn’t real.It’s just a silly tragedyYou’ve forced yourself to feel.Anxiety is fake, my friendYou wonder why it’s there.But others have it worse than you!Stop forming false despair.Cutting is dramatic, love,It’s ugly, and it’s dumb.Why not just get over it?Is the attention fun?Suicide is stupid, dear,And selfish, if I may.Get over yourself, darling,Can you hear these things I say?Why aren’t you replying, love?Oh, where could you have gone?I never meant to hurt you, love,Did I say something wrong?Why aren’t you replying, dear?Depression isn’t true!…Oh, but yes it was, “my dear”...Just maybe not for you.
LightLight pooled in the floes of her fleshthe warm tone of polluted amberit ran down the window,the stream broken in places by silhouettesand other such distractionsit spilled, soundlessand flooded silken sheetssetting adrift the skin and breath and whispers of herMachiavellian schemesto steal away into the polluted darkher sighs overflowed, sonorouspouring into the amber and blackthe constellations dotted along herdisrupted in places by the shadows of treesand other such poetry
stardust. (you're beautiful)he'sout of orbit -interstellar spacedust in hisveins rise andfall witheach word thatdrips and poolsbeneath hishoneyed tongue;silenceis betweenhis knuckle-bones,sharp anddefined like theribcage of ababy bird, hismazarine eyeswere not made forthis earth butfor the stars.andsome days hefades in andout of reality likehe never reallywanted to be thereat all.on those daysi just thinkmy god, you really don'trealise how amazing you are.
Porcelain I was porcelainI trusted you to hold meI would shine for youPolished to perfectionI was porcelainYou were a childCarelessYou didn't know what you heldYou let me fallDidn't care when I shatteredYou were a childI was porcelainBegging to be fixedBattered and brokenI was helplessI was porcelainYou were a childYou left me thereShattered on the floorPretending it didn't happenPretending it wasn't youYou were a childI was porcelainAnd you were a careless childOne day I hope you realizeYou didn't know what you heldYou broke the family heirloomI hope you regret it
your poemyou tell me on a thursday that you can’t findthe god inside of yourself anymore, thatyou think that you are finallytoo much honeycomb and not enough humanbecause lately everything has been slippingthrough your fingers, and you don’t know how you cankeep holding yourself together anymore.if today is the day that you lookat the stars and you no longerfeel their burn beneath your bones,i will show you the blanket i tried to makewhen i was eight, and i will tell you all i knowabout the string theory, which isn’t much, i admit,but i do know the basics,and that’s that everything in the universeis composed of strings that somehowloop onto each other infinitely.so whenever you feel like you’rewalking a tightrope without a safetynet below you, know that you arethousands of tightropes strung together,and one fall will not kill you.i have never told you about the wayi can feel my pulse skitter to a stopin my wrists whenever i hear you laughing
looking through windowsmy heart is not a toyits fragile like glasswill you break itor just give it a passall it wants is lovehold it close and you will seethere more to life than possesionstheres more to me than it seems