Shrouded by black, in every corner and every crack,
the pitch of the room keeps me secluded.
I don't have to focus anything, everything’s moving, shifting in the shadows.
I am in the dark, and I like it here.
It hides my shame, my tears, and my pain
i like it in the dark.
The fluttering of wings,
Trapped in not my stomach but my head.
Going round and round,
round and round,
round and round.
Inspired by Camila Cabello's - Bad Kind Of Butterflies (song)
Even though sometimes I like to believe I can help,
No one wants me around.
So they squash and trample me,
that’s why I hide in the corners now.
I have a web of lies, secrets, truths and spirits. But you’ll never know which is which.
I say jump, you say how high.
As high as the sky,
to that cloud number 9
Floating in the gas above the ground, feeling like gravity can’t effect you.
You breath in the earth, the bits you rolled up,
and light it up to turn it to smoke.
Watching her burn with such delight, you take a puff and let the breath in your lungs turn to soot.
In support of the Amazon Rainforest.
I feel your eyes on me when I know the desire is raging,
the lust burning across your skin, and the sharpness of your nails scratching my flesh under your hands.
Don’t be shy
If you can love me in my sweats, and baggy clothing, or my short dresses that show off my legs that you like so much.
We’ll get there, but not yet. wait for me please. I can make you beg.
I can feel you shivering, I can hear you moaning
Yes, roll your eyes back like that,
that's it, grip my wrists, claw my arm, good boy
throw your head back, hide your face against my neck
not just yet
Beg me to let you beg me to let your body scream.
How does one say “*******” politely?
Because personally I do not wish to offend, but I’m in need to defend.
To defend my actions and what I said, or did, to protest against the way you all want me to live.
I’m rude, I’m mean, I’m a bully. Call it what you will but I will always see it as honesty.
Why, must I be the one in trouble, when no one spoke to me
Why, must I be beaten down violently when I didn’t know what to do
Why, must I be tortured mentally that I want to break my own skin open and let everything out.
All the, emotions and pain, suffering and sleepless night that I spent crying.
I mean no offence, but seriously...
I don’t want to speak to you anymore.
Why does a screen feel less than me when it’s supposed to be state of the art, high tech, and without fault.
People will say that it’s just getting old, and worn out, so why won’t my heart do the same..
Hey, I like you, do you like me? No, that’s fine, that’s cool I’ll go cry myself to sleep at night because unlike internet explorer I don’t just keep asking for you to accept me.
I simply wish that I could be less weak, less pathetic, less useless than everything and everyone else, I just wish to not feel this sensitivity of my nerves letting my eyes drain and my heart to turn into a glass pane that someone can smash open, and for those lumps in my throat to just go down and not reappear as I struggle to tell you how I feel.
I wish to be helpful, I wish to be useful, and I want to make you happy every way possible.
But my weakening heart does not know how to tell you the truth that I’m holding within my lungs as the air rots away.
I no longer wish to feel pain.