writemeintoink

blood. bloody gore painted across ceramic tiles, calling to that fiery hatred inside, bore a beast in the depths of my conscience. this face, never made to depict such evil, it twists comically. in the mirror will never be what i am: a monster.

I was running. running, and the wind tore away my skin. Tore my flesh , veins and white bone tapped out a haunting war song. the beating of my empty heart wound throughout the rusted lanes of my veins. a dull ache of something that was washed over the scattering threads of my fading consciousness.

blood. bloody gore painted across ceramic tiles, calling to that fiery hatred inside; bore a beast in the depths of my conscience. this face, never made to depict such evil, it twists comically. in the mirror will never be what i am: a monster.

A most delightful blue stole across mine heart. Deep and melodious, the song alighted itself in my eyes. Not tears but joy

Raindrops are falling into my eyes as I drown in my swallowed tears, ever so calmly.

I was flying, flying and the wind tore away my wings. White ash and cloud in my veins burn like the coals on my body. Heart- ache, heart- break, Heart: stone hard and take our lives like butterflies, make them into something beautiful before we scatter back into the unbeing.

We're the ones that everyone wants to push down The ones that get picked last for what seems everything Seems like everyday is a battleground for us Who do we trust? All we do is run and hide from the pain and misery Nothing seems to keep at bay The ones that torture us On and on They push us down and around Who's to blame? We don't know In the end We blame ourselves The changes we make The chances we take For nothing Only to get knocked to the ground again No way to truly hide these wounds upon our heart's They see our wounds But they could care less All they do is open and reopen them What they feel is pleasure Pleasure stemming from our p

i wish i could peel myself out of this skin, the way you do my body from dresses unzip me at the side slowly, and let my flesh pool around my feet like snow drifts, pale and streaked with purples, pinks, and etchings aged bloodless white let me stay warm beneath you, until seasons pass and all that's left of these old stories are small, snow-kissed mountain tops and unravel me, so i can forget the boundaries of this body, so i mustn't shrink or slice to feel sunlight on my bones