I crave you like a cigarette and I just as equally want to burn you. Smoking is an addiction of poison that will waste you away and acid drenched flowers will grow from your ribcage. But I assure you, I'd rather turn my lungs to ash than ever be kissed by the putrid lips of love.
I've held your very thoughts in my hands. They twinkled like the stars and were just as brilliant. Some were sprinkled with glass and barbed wire. Those were my favorites. Some of them were made of clouds and packaged, processed love. I didn't like them as much, they were expected. The darkest parts of you were my favorite. I wanted the real you, the one made of razor blades and painted smiles. That side of you is the one that caused you to leave. To leave me. Suicide isn't easy. But you sure made it seem that way.
Tears made of memories cascade from orbs shot red. Twinges of sadness lace throughout her veins. Blood red memories splash against her cheeks; It’s the perfect shade of crimson.
My heart screams out. You've been cutting it ever since you smashed your love to pieces while it was still intertwined with my own. I'm drowning in lost love. I'm aching for you but you just keep kicking me in the ribs. I love you. I hate you. I hate how I love you.
Please don't miss me because we are a firework. When we mix, it's toxic beauty. We rain down a show of tender passion. But the end result is always our own destruction. Please don't miss me because I'm afraid of heights.
‘i love you’ dripped from his tongue like honey, thick and sweet, i ******* hate honey, it made my thighs stick to the seats in the back of his car, coated my throat so i couldn’t say no.
he didn’t love me he loved using me whenever he needed to ***.
My love for you was a fire but I only seemed to burn you. My passion was the rain but I only seemed to drown you. My pain was the ocean but you had a boat. My loneliness was the tide but you kept sending me away.
Now I'm a hurricane. But you aren't around. Now I'm collapsing. You found your way back home. I'm nothing now. You visited my grave.
I long for the day where I wake up happy and I'm no longer coughing up the blood of the demon attached to my lungs. When the lurking shadow of depression is no longer keeping my head under water.
Kiss me with your razor blade tongue. Let your lips press against my throat, for they are like knives. Let your scissor hands slit my wrists. They tell me your heart is made of gold but your soul is made of onyx. Dance your fingertips across my skin in one's hope of love. But darling, you could never love. You're heartless.
Memories burn my lips to ash, forcing their way down my throat. Red rain falls from the clouds above my heart, tainting the pictures sepia. I am choking on your love but it tastes like the hot, silver metal of rage. Shards of my heart have found a way into my lungs.
The tide is laced in my veins, in every emotion, nerve, cell, atom. It has taken the ability to love from me because no matter how many times I try to plant a kiss on the shores of someone's heart, they keep sending me way.
I sing the song of the sinking ships that drown in the vast, dark ocean of depression I call home. They slosh against my ribcage with such force, I fear I may break entirely.
I have been at war. I'm sorry I've never written you. The weapons we use are our minds. Our survival, it's our destruction. The only gun driven into our skull is the one we hold. I have battle scars and healing wounds, they were left by nobody other than myself. Someone drowned last night, he was thinking too much. We learnt how to make nooses and how to use them.