Im 18 now..
Yet all I wanted for my birthday was to disappear
Surrounded by laughing friends
Filled with hate
Is that a way to live a life?
******* at everything
Maybe another year will bring new answers
And not more problems

Id bring you a million roses
but they would weap at the fact
That they could never be
as beautiful as you

Its been raining all day today
Yet the only thing I can dream of
Is holding you in my arms
Kissing up your neck
And cuddling the night away

But sadly..
You are an ocean away
The girl I'm dreaming of
Yet cant even hold

The future only holds
A dream and a chance
And soon my darling
You shall be in my arms

I fell in love with the devil me
wanting to share horror
I just love being scared out my skin
watching warning signs on cigarette packs
and the pictures of suffering cancerous ****
all go to 'make my day'

Does anybody else try to imagine the writer's voice when reading one of their works?