He traced her skin and kissed her neck
It was a perfect love story
He held her hands and smiled at her
As if it was a perfect love story
He marked her skin and held her tight
It seemed like a perfect love story
But words deceive and soon you'll see that It wasn't a perfect love story
He held her captive in his room
It wasn't a perfect love story
He forced himself on her skin
It wasn't a perfect love story
He said it was fine but it never was
It wasn't a perfect love story
And he took a piece of her every time
It wasn't a perfect love story
The pain he caused never stopped
It wasn't a perfect love story
And it felt as if she was stuck
It wasn't a perfect love story
Stuck with a demon in her house
It wasn't a perfect love story
It wasn't a perfect love story
It wasn't a perfect love story
It wasn't love at all

And your sweet taste paralyzed me for now i was a puppet in your game of love

Her hair was so red like a thousand fires lit above her and i could feel the warmth of the blaze leaving her body and i dont know why but i could never get enough. I could never and would never want to stop looking at her braided curly hair interwined with the colors of flowers she had planted in her thick locks, for they were more beautiful than a thousand sunsets combined. Her eyes so blue like the Crystal clear water of the sea so deep; i looked inside and i was captivated for it was a home for the most exotic colors and the most beautiful tides. I could see the sirons living inside of her eyes and how they glimmered every time she smiled and maybe even cried.
and her face all freckled like a dotted map of some world she moved me to every time we spoke, every time she held me and every time she smiled. She had this power over me that i didnt even have on myself and i didnt know if it was good bad or even normal but dare i say for the final time She was beautiful.

The tiles of my bathroom floor make friends with my demons as i sit there and cry wanting to die. i look at myself and all i can see is a broken down reflection of what used to be so whole. So i sit on the floor clutching myself as i break down to pieces i will never find.

My friend asked me what's one thing which makes a poet a poet, and i didn't hesitate to say selfishness. Be selfish with your emotions, write for your own good, express through art and do it all for yourself, for the result of your selfishness makes up the whole of so many people too broken to be their own kind of selfish.

It was a sunny afternoon. The sun was as bright as Stevenson's hair. Despite the piercing heat, there was a tender wind, brushing and kissing the skin of the kids, saving them from feeling overpowered by the sun. The soft wind was helping the waves dance to its rhythm, and with every move the sea seemed to be telling another story. The golden grains of sand shining under the rays intertwined with the kids' skin and now they were a part of the musical. Seeing as the day was so beautiful, violet could not contain herself. Her hands and feet pranced around, and she played with schools of fish passing by every now and then. She was absolutely, entirely engulfed in something so absolute, and that made her just as so. Stevenson was sitting on the golden layer of magic next to his grandma Rose, and they were both watching this crazy girl portraying such innocence and beauty. The wind was crippling and the sounds of the soft waves crashing were heavenly. Even the silence could not silence the underlying beauty of the world. Suddenly grandma rose with such a sweet voice said "Why do you love her Stevenson? Why do you think you'll marry her?" And Steve just smiled. He put his hand on his heart and said, "the way i love her is no ordinary love. People love each other but the way i love her can not fit into labels. With my so limited time all i want and all i need is her. I would die for her. I would live for her. It is not a case of life and death, but it is a case of love. You know someone means something to you when they're on you're mind. Well she isn't just on my mind. I think about her every minute every day. I think of her in times of happiness or sadness. I even think of her when im incapable of forming real thoughts. You know someone means something to you when with your very last dying breathe you manage to call out their name. You manage to cling to the overpowering sensation of not love, but need. I need her. I love her. So just when you ask why i think I'll marry her. She gave me a part of me i so desperately needed to find, she saved me from my sorrow, she gave a new meaning to my life. She is my life. Plus, just look at her, who in the right mind won't fall for a person so angelic."

Yes I knew that I needed a heavy dose of medication, but this medication would be none other than a piece of paper and a pen through which my feelings transformed to a shelter for any eyes able to read between the lines

I met you
You hurt me
You used me
You broke me
You were toxic
But I still let you in
I thought I deserved it
And again
You hurt me
You used me
You broke me
It was toxic
And it still goes on again
●a letter from the numb girl●

I dont think people quite understand the concept of depression.
Sadness, they say.
If it were to be sadness, one would say i am sad instead of i am depressed.
And honestly the way i would like to describe depression is a friend.
That one toxic friend
holding your hand
chaining you down
never leaving you alone
making you feel incompatible with yourself
making you lose all sense of happiness and freedom from within yourself
Making you desperate for an ounce of love from anyone just so your heart can feel alive again
Making life as a whole seem so empty
Making life as a whole seem so worthless
Making you as a whole so sorrowful
And turning everything you knew to be, upside down.

And every mark on our skin inevitably connects the dots between mankind and nature.

And just then when you looked straight into my eyes i saw it. I saw a future. I saw a future with you me and an endless love story

Different shades of souls so beautiful when they united and so dangerous when ripped apart. It was always and never when they became one and that was the key of it all

And just like that i fell
I fell into your heart
A never ending pit of what feels like nothing
I fell to somewhere i didnt recognize
Somewhere dark and full of hurt
And when i finally hit the ground
I felt out of breath
I felt imprisoned
Love
What a stupid excuse
Hurt
The reality
I fell
I got hurt
I cried
And now
I see
What a pitty it is
For my heart to pain
Over you
And what a pitty it is
To love

She spent so much time talking with the trees that she interwined with its branches and turned to a gentle giant keeping eyes on goings of far below.

Love
A 1 syllable word
Commonly described as something you feel right in your heart, like a warm sensation, as if someone has held it.
Love
How do you know what it is
Where does it even come from
How can i know if its true
Love
Such a dillusion
A pathway to heartbreak
Love
A tangled up mess of every good feeling one could feel and horrible things no one would want to see
Love
A crazy, unstable, out of control yet beautiful rollercoaster
Love
An embodiment of the galaxy, full of beautiful stars but also destructive astroids
Love
Something I can't put into words, even though I'm really trying to
Love
Something that has destroyed me but built me back up again
Love
An inexplicable one syllable word
Love

I dont understand how someone who shares my flesh and blood can be as toxic as a gunshot aimed straight to my head

A part of me wants to die
All I do is sit and cry
It pains me every other day
And the horrid stains will always stay
I dont really know what to do
Because the pain is just like glue
It Stabs me every time I heal
Sadness is the only thing I feel
I have no one I'm all alone
And my heart has ******* turned to stone
From all the times it has nonstop hurt
All the times it spent in the dirt
All the people who broke it apart
I wasn't warned from the start
And every person who came inside
Broke my soul and only lied
And yet I sat with a glimpse of hope
I didn't know that I could no longer cope
Until one day when the true storm came
I realised that this was not a game
And the exact day the war had begun
My mind my heart my soul had stopped
And for the last time my tortured soul felt
I could not endure with what I had dealt
So goodbye I said as I closed my eyes
Remembering the numb girl who nonstop cried


●A letter from the numb girl●