Is my Tweet or Facebook status. The reason behind his hiatus? Was it me who made him say ‘laters’ Was it because I made it bait as? …
I can feel the groans within my soul and I know those moans are all my fault. This whore house is my home, and the slut in the bed is me. Those skeletons in the cupboard are there because there’s no space underneath. Don’t like me, because you won’t breath. I will strain every bit of air out of your lungs and every bit of love from your heart. I’ll take it and give you none in return. You see this body? It means I can have anybody. And I do, almost everybody.
I shall not have a second thought that would be a waste of time. I will dive in head first with my eyes wide open. Just like my legs. I am not a fool if that’s what you were hoping?
Ex? Don’t mention that, for it is like witches nails drawing on a chalk board. Maybe we should talk more? Who’s keeping the score?
I know what I’m doing. I’m there in the room, or the club. Or the car. Stitching the scars. Bitching about the mirrors. Afterwards when there’s a repercussion I all of a sudden get concussion. These questions don’t make sense. Your anger directed at me, is confusing. I’ve got splinters from sitting on the fence. There’s nothing here that needs improving.
Agree with me and I will like you. Tell me your opinion and you will feel the wrath of silence. Sitting on the island getting violent. That boy with the guitar plays the blues from his house. He sings about the lies that live in the grooves of my mouth.
Cut me. Fuck me. It’s just a shell. I won’t get into heaven, I’ll probably rot in hell. Not that I really believe it. It’s just a sound that comes from my mouth, or a sight from my fingers taping keys. I enjoy walking past while the boys are clapping me.
Fake is this smile. The grin is a hallucination. Lips are tasting. The boys creation after masturbation. Sick and tired of my procrastination. I am disgusting. I repulse my eyes. Yet my ignorance assures me that I’m doing fine. Who cares about anyone else’s spine but mine. Who say’s I’m lying? I shan’t answer a question that isn’t given direct. Paranoia is a destroyer then like an infection from an insect. I am the worm. The woman. I’ll watch you squirm. Be nice. It’ll get you far, further than you ever thought you could get. [Sket]
What is shame? Maybe my youth makes me immune. I heard it’ll hit me one day soon. The unwritten rule. Outside of school. Ghosts will haunt my dreams. My mind. I suspect I’ll walk down the cracks in the pavement, and see faces I’ve left behind. Been unkind. Even worse because I never meant it. Bliss from a kiss that tastes of wine. Looking at the sky. Sit down with my back to the grass. Wondering how long this one will last. The crowds looking at the clouds. Wow they make such beautiful shapes. Looking at perfection, makes me ponder my mistakes.
Watching from the window. Nose pressed up against the glass. Screams are loud and sad. Like a pain that hurts and aches. Wondering what could have been if hearts were saved from breaks.
I am me. Unfortunately.
[The lights are blinding. I’m smiling. I’m the worst of the worst. I’m tricking him. My mind games are sickening. The knife in my hand is sticking in. Twist it. Blink and you’ve missed it. Looking for a villain, then cast me. I’m here and I’m nasty. When was I last seen? Jealousy you’ve gone green. I laugh at your depressed hurting. I’m getting undressed round the house of *******. My behaviour is working. Slipped, Tripped got laid for certain. The whore I see in the mirror is me. Forget it like it’s a new era and leave. Get close but no nearer and see, that I‘m living to breath better believe the trick up my sleeve and heave when you hear about New Years Eve.]
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