The day was new as was the house that I had just moved into earlier that day. I had been in my room for that past hour unpacking while waiting for my friends to arrive for the house warming party I was going to throw, and the entire time I heard a constant scratching as… Continue reading my new house
One cut… Is just a small scratch to me. It did not take me that much to bleed. Hate runs through my beat and battered body.
I know you think I’m psycho. Or that I have issues way too weird. And you wonder why I haven’t contemplated suicide.
Scabs on my arms to hide the pain. I scratch away at my fate. I looked at your brown eyes, And saw love.
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.
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
Simon awoke sprawled on his bed in his usually fashion, spread egale and bare assed. Smiling to himself about some half remembered dream, he slid out of bed. Giving himself a long standing stretch and scratch, he wondered what and who the evening would bring. He ambled over to his closet to find something to… Continue reading Simon says