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prodhi-manisha
“Trust you to trust Someone like me,” she bites back Her eyes glaring with a hollow where her faith in herself Should’ve been. If she were a god She’d be an atheist. “I don’t see myself Being anywhere but here with you.” Silly, silly boy who’d put her on a pedestal so high even she Couldn’t climb it. If she were a god He’d be a fanatic. “I’ll do you nothing But harm. You’ll be covered in scars By the time I’m done with you.” Worthless. She felt worthless She wished she could make him Happy. She can’t. Never. He took his arm and Brushed it against a sharp edge, blood Dripping relentlessly. She gasped, “What the **** You– are you Suicidal? Because even I’m not That ****** up, seriously.” He chuckled dryly, stepped Towards her, smearing blood on the sleeve Of her wedding dress. The warm breath on her reeked of sincerity For once. “Trust me,” he whispered, “You’re worth suffering for.”
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Mar 5, 2014
Mar 5, 2014 at 11:01 PM UTC
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Sprawled across the floor of my room I feel drained. So empty that I feel The sides of my body collapsing inward I’m imploding. It’s been a while since I have stargazed. Danced in the rain. Written a poem. I don’t feel butterflies because the inside Of my stomach is so ******* cold Why wouldn’t they in their right mind Migrate to warmer weathers? Someone once said I’m light, wondered If I had low bone density. Maybe. Or maybe I’m so hollow inside that I weigh Nothing. My soul went on a diet of kale and Crushed hopes. Got devastated in a game of pong As I chugged down cups and cups of bitter reality Late into the night. **** my 10 11 12. This tastes worse than Keystone. I’m ********* I’m imploding. Good Sam me.
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Mar 5, 2014
Mar 5, 2014 at 10:59 PM UTC
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