Grow up.Sadness is a toddlers first memory of her father leaving.Grow up.
[Remember how he threw his ring at your mother while you sat in her lap? It landed in her coffee. Now you dont drink black coffee because its alittle too much like the colour of that memory.]
Fear is a childs first exposure to violence.
[Remember how he pushed her down a flight of stairs and you were scared of him for weeks? You smashed the mirror so theyd stop screaming. Guess you forgot about the 7 years bad luck.]
Sorrow is a preteens first loss of importance.
[Remember when he stopped calling, stopped caring, and you
shhhlistenshhh
im calling out for help with a voice made of scrap paper and eyelashes and its a whisper of fluttering silence that you could hear if you would just give a fuck
listen
theres nothing but static between the lines so dont bother searching for the truth but theres lyrics between the scars sung to the tune of a flat-lining telephone
listen
i have constellations of the most unruely stars trapped in my eyes and screaming to be set free if i dont get out rightfuckingnow i fear theyre going to blind the both of us
I should've known.You dont know it yet, But ill break your heart and eat your soul, and you'll destroy the bones in your hand and the viens in your wrist all because I dont know who I am today. You wont hate me though, and for that, I will hate myself.I should've known.
And i should have told you that One Year, One Month, and 23 Days ago and maybe you would have saved yourself a lifetime instead of saving me a few scars
and a fractions worth of lonely nights.
I dont know it yet, but i will fall in love and out of love
and back in love agian
every november that i spen
ink stained eveningsthey keep trying to tell me that as long as i question my sanity i can't deny it's existance, and that i simply revel in my own preceived mania, but lately i've found myself alone in the dark tear stained, blood stained, ink stained, and this evening i'm quoting you between my scars.ink stained evenings
my arm reads 'if it was'nt illegal, i'd make poetry with the sound of steel and the vivid crimson stain of fresh blood'
because not only do i envy the way the pen ink can keep from turning vermillion against it's will, but i also envy your hideous mind and beautiful soul. if it was'nt criminal, crooked, felonious,
lets jump off the Eiffel Towerif this is your first time reading this, STOP! Right here, right now you–YES YOU, stop. Make sure you know, this is not a suggestion; this is a fact, a command.lets jump off the Eiffel Tower
Try to remember: This is NOT a formula for altruism. This is NOT a masqueraded apology. This is NOT a dysphoric cry for help. This is robbing word banks for lines, then cutting the front of the lexicon.
This is adding insult to libel, injury to a broken mandible– one that never spoke anyway. if you've felt like this before, stab me three times in the jaw.
Rawr
| I am a teenage girl from the edge of nowhere. They call me a little ball of destruction and fists and teeth, or sometimes a broken fire alarm. I want to live in London England. I would very much like to own a studio and a bookstore. I am in love, and I love it. |
xxxmas
Gloomy
--
I like walking in the rain, so that no one can tell that I'm crying...
--
i keep waking up
with someone else's
mo[u]rning breath.
<3
--
come join *project-improve !
--
i keep waking up
with someone else's
mo[u]rning breath.
<3
--
Izzie
"Life isn't about finding yourself...it's about creating yourself..."
--
i found you
*project-improve
--
I draw. Lets be friends.
So pour me another Gasoline Cocktail
To burn down this little cardbord box town
To make me feel alive.
~KaoticOutkast
--
I draw. Lets be friends.
So pour me another Gasoline Cocktail
To burn down this little cardbord box town
To make me feel alive.
~KaoticOutkast
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