It sounds silly to complain,
every other girl would say I'm lucky
say I've got it in the bag,
that I've got things I thought I'd never have,
yet still I am not pleased,
for while my bank account as been eased
my heart
has not

mind
w a  n   d    e     r      s
                                          













away

You know what yes
I DO miss you
I miss our inside jokes
I miss laughing so hard I can’t breathe at the back table
I miss passing coded notes
Getting in trouble together
Playing the cup song in health class
Laughing at funny quotes on your phone
I miss accidentally breaking your whiteout
I miss texting every night way too late
I miss being able to trust you with any secret
I miss how you would never say an unkind word to me
I miss how we really truly believed our friendship was forever
I miss your dumb owl jewelry
I miss you always having to borrow money from me
I miss you always trying to convince me to put my hair up in a bun
I miss ordering the same Starbucks drink as you
I miss calling each other sisters
I miss YOU
But you died
I have already mourned your loss
I have grieved for your death
I still feel pangs of sorrow on lonely nights for you back when you were alive
But at some point
After a death
You need to move on with your life
It is just hard because there is this ***** with a capital B
The one who killed you
Who walks around ******* up everyone’s life under your name
She looks exactly like you and murdered you
Then decided to be a f!cking *****
She shattered us
She BROKE our sisterly bond of friendship
She pushed us away
Bit by bit isolating herself from us
We still thought it was you at first
We didn’t realize this horrible soulless ***** had replaced you
Because she looked exactly like you
Now I loathe f!cking owl jewelry
She sleeps in your bed every night
And no one else knows that you were killed by a ***** who took your place
I miss the old you
I really do
And sometimes I hear songs that remind me of You
And I cry
I’ve cried 6 different times in the last 7 days listening to a song that reminds me of you
But this murderous ***** who killed you
And goes by your name
And shattered me
SHE is not the same person as you
And I loathe her
I feel no love or attachment to that cold-blooded girl
I want to electrocute her
and light her on fire
and skin her alive
and cut off her limbs one by one
and then her head and display it on a pike
for killing you
and damaging me and those I love
I don’t miss her
I miss you
You are two different people who just happen to have both occupied the same body at different times
And go by the same name
You can’t come back from the dead
It has been over a year
I miss you badly
And I hate her horribly
But you died a long, long time ago.

Repost if you can relate at all.
Sorry for the violent bit, I just love very deeply as well as loathe very deeply and I am way too bloodily-minded... sorry....

To Ember,
Have you noticed you're far too often someone's "Once"?
Far too often you make it into their "Remember Whens"
While you're there you burn brightly
But you burn bright until you burn out
And then all you are is a memory
A faded recollection
Just a blurry piece of the past
Like a bubble
Shimmering and floating high
Everything seems beautiful
But once it pops
That's it.
The End.
Ember, quit being so disposable.
So easily forgotten
Quit
F
A
   L
     L
      I
       N
        G
And F   A   d   i   n   g...

So quickly.

When will you stop being just a memory?

From Ember


Repost if you hate being just a Once and a Remember When. Or if you discovered the repost button and just got really excited because you love clicking on things.
Please comment I love to read interpretations of my work and really any other thoughts you may have! :)

I don't want to love you anymore
but it seems like every time you walk out of that door a part of me has just been stolen, burned, crushed and broken, I don't think its possible to love somebody as much as I love you
what am I supposed to do
when my hart ache for you and only you?
what have you done to me?
why can't I stop loving you?
im sooo ready to move on
I try and I try but loving you is a unbelievable high.

She paints a pretty picture but the story has a twist her paint brush is her razor and her canvas is her wrist.
She Paints a pretty picture
In a color thats blood red
While using her sharp paint brush, she finally ends up dead.
Her pretty pictures fading quite slowly on her arm,
The bloods not racing through her she can no longer do harm.
She Painted a Pretty Picture
but her picture had a twist you see her mind was her razor and her heart was her wrist.