I hurt because I’m hurting.
It’s fair fair how dare you slink around my quarters not knowing that I’m your unfeigned first shooting star how dare you share my bed with me … kiss me, drag me through
How dare you resurrect what tortures
I bet I could make you cry why
Would you say that when you’ve done it before it isn’t a joke my tears are not a joke
Choke
The wetter
I’ll find no better because you know what I thought that you were pretty awesome and I was worth so little then where’s the you that loved me you wont stick around for me will you…
Not this you.
Curious compulsion
you’re so cold let me wrap my hands around yours.
What peculiarity pulls one stranger to another.
Pulls one you to one me
Your cold is melting
be selfish… I would go through anything … for you, us
You would simply have to say the word
The word
The knife has already made his mark as if … a huge hole inside of me as if my heart was broken
how deeply this cut
you don’t understand what a hole is doing inside you why would I put that there that perhaps it might be your heart leaking, bruising, sleep isn’t healing, breaking
But mine has been bleeding and sleep tends to mend with only patches, stitches easily undone
I’m easily undone
I need a new heart
A nobody was never worth what you are to me.
You’ll always be important to me
I’ll not forget you when we’re not together either
if ever
History is written once in fading pen. Let’s write over ours with better ink together.
And carbon it in stone.
I want to cover over it with you.
You’re upset
I’m shaking..
When will I be too much
I’m attracted to the blade
No playing, children.
I’m not playing at all.
And I shouldn’t be a child anymore.
There there now get those haunting thoughts (keep playing round and round ‘til more of them a score of them galore of them are found) out of your head.
Try.
Try harder.
Sneaky blades are slicing, my tongue keeps cutting in the dark
Though most wounds intrude quite rude (elude) quite closely to the heart
Let me leave nothing festering again
Hidden blades conceal the blood but the nick the bite you prick the fight and the unfavorable warmth are all still and certain there
blood slimes, slithers, climbs and withers down my leg
‘til the dense mess around my core still spitting
(You spit in my face)
turns into careful dripping
a combed out, fragile puddle by the heels of my boots.
Black, the soles.
as i presume the blood to be
if i could see the consequence of the cut.
And gone, the souls.
As I want the blood to be
If I could fix this.
I swear it’s fair..
Or is it fair..
to hurt because I’m hurting..
Advertisement
Posted in: Here Yes Now
Posted on July 15, 2010
0