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Literature Text
In a strange way,I'm kind of proud. Two months. Two months of wanting to die,two months of
having to lie,and no one suspects a thing. Two months, 59 days, and a certain amount of
hours, minutes, seconds that I won't bother to puzzle out. Who cares, right? Who cares how
long I've been hurting?
No one, obviously. Maybe it's just me, but I find it rather funny. Really.
Incredibly, insanely funny, the way I go about each day dropping subtle hints, giving
them glimpses of the scars all over my arms, let them catch me inflicting harm, walk in
while I'm curled up in the corner, clawing and biting at my arms like a madwoman. And they
still think I'm perfectly fine. Ha! Funny,right?! Right!?
having to lie,and no one suspects a thing. Two months, 59 days, and a certain amount of
hours, minutes, seconds that I won't bother to puzzle out. Who cares, right? Who cares how
long I've been hurting?
No one, obviously. Maybe it's just me, but I find it rather funny. Really.
Incredibly, insanely funny, the way I go about each day dropping subtle hints, giving
them glimpses of the scars all over my arms, let them catch me inflicting harm, walk in
while I'm curled up in the corner, clawing and biting at my arms like a madwoman. And they
still think I'm perfectly fine. Ha! Funny,right?! Right!?
Literature
solitude
i am
trying to pull myself away
from this feeling
that consumes me inside
your absence is in
every object that surrounds me,
entangling loneliness
in the air
its all i can feel.
the time rolls onwards,
and onwards,
dragging me along
as i wait, as i wonder.
(i just want you to
come back.)
Literature
The Journey
Beneath my skin, my veins pulse with desire
To know why I am here.
As I journey to find the answers to life,
I sail through the monotonous seas
That stretch forever beyond the horizon.
As my ship sails towards the dry land,
Mountains tower before me,
Filling me with both awe and intimidation.
But the mountains are eroding as time passes by,
Into merely fragments of what they once were.
I move my eyes and watch the glaciers
Melt slowly into rivers.
But even though they disappear,
They melt to provide water for all life on this planet.
You could say rivers are created by glaciers for a purpose.
I ponder those mountains and glac
Literature
The Torturing Dream
Soft... her skin. He knew it would be before he even knew her name.
Silent... the breath he can't catch after his gasp when she said 'Hello gorgeous. Let's go make some trouble.'
Soft... the sheets on the bed in a room he'd never seen, but was happy to be inhabiting.
Silent... the arch of her back and the tears on her face, oxytocin induced...
Hard... the concrete he sees when he awakes from the dream
Cold... the skin on his chest where she laid her head seconds before
Hard... the sound of him lighting a cigarette in the quiet room
Cold... his breath when he exhales the first drag of another day
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...I couldn't help it.This amused the fuck out of me.The last part where it sounds like I've had one of my famous breakdowns,I owe that to my friend Aeron.He's even better than me at being psychotic anyway,don't take this too seriously,I have problems but for the most part I'm under control,just tell me what you think about this little...creation of mine
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i care.