Now I feel so alone Listening to the dial tone I’ll take another pill To swallow my pain And call you back up But it’s always the same You hang up on me Before I start to cry You give up on me Before I even try And I can’t figure this out Or how… Continue reading Paper cut
Tag: scabs
Crimson
Scathing the neck and back… This girl couldn’t get enough. She could taste his very essence through his holesome blood. What was it about this guy that drove her insane?!
Scratch
Scabs on my arms to hide the pain. I scratch away at my fate. I looked at your brown eyes, And saw love.
god punished me with an itch; fucker.
I thought there was something wrong with me, that i was wrong. the way i pick at my skin, the way i pull at my hair, the way i contemplate the meaning and purpose behind most thing and ways and people.
clumps of hair and blood
my agitation grows each day, that date is coming closer and closer. I am about to see my mom for the first time since i got off methadone. i woke up this morning to more hair on my pillow.
dreams of shaving my hair
i am a very tense person, not just agro but everything i do is not quite right. just out of reality. it gets so bad i start to pull out my hair, scratch under my skin, rip off scabs, make wounds in my mouth. i’ve been having dreams of shaving my head and being relaxed… Continue reading dreams of shaving my hair
I’m not crazy just euphoric
I am looking down at myself. My body feels so light and the sky is so crowded with these crimson bullets. I can barely keep my eyes open. The heroin is dominant over the blood in my veins. It’s in my head and I am happy.
convos between strangers.
reality is very confusing. i don’t understand it sometimes, it seems like a dream. who ever thought that that girl always falling asleep in class, the one with the emotional outbursts, the one who seems to change moods more then she does her tampons is clean?
greetings to you my death
pick at them those fucking scabs pick the razor up and use it against me who is fighting me it is so dark fucking shit it is just me.
Morbid Thoughts
Morbid thoughts suffocate my mind A desolate sadist sitting anlone No corners to hide in Nowhere left to turn Despise every breath I take Hating each beat more than the last Detest the thing I’ve become Nothing more than a pitiful failure Disgusted at my own reflection Repulsive face of a wench Finger the scars… Continue reading Morbid Thoughts