There is no fairytale in misery. Yet I find myself drowning in this unpolished desire to hold the hand of greed. I pulled out the knife too quickly, leaving it to heal improperly. Forever a mistake, forever a lost cause. My light seems broken. Every time I open my eyes, all I can see are shards of multi-coloured glass surrounding the happiness I cannot have. The nightmares have taken root and are a crippling comfort in which I cannot bear. I wipe away the mothering tears and hold back the putrid ***** Passion is my curse and sorrow is my blanket. I lust for the ugly and jagged pieces of hope, because it's all I have left to lean on.
Apr 21, 2013
Apr 21, 2013 at 10:49 PM UTC
There is no fairytale in misery. Yet I find myself drowning in this unpolished desire to hold the hand of greed. I pulled out the knife too quickly, leaving it to heal improperly. Forever a mistake, forever a lost cause. My light seems broken. Every time I open my eyes, all I can see are shards of multi-coloured glass surrounding the happiness I cannot have. The nightmares have taken root and are a crippling comfort in which I cannot bear. I wipe away the mothering tears and hold back the putrid ***** Passion is my curse and sorrow is my blanket. I lust for the ugly and jagged pieces of hope, because it's all I have left to lean on.
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