IT ******* HURTS. IT ALWAYS ******* HURTS. I AM IN THIS ROOM DRY HEAVING BECAUSE IT ******* HURTS. I TOLD YOU I LOVED YOU THEN I ******* LEFT. I AM ALWAYS LEAVING THE PEOPLE I SHOULDN'T. IT ******* HURTS AND I CAN'T BREATHE BECAUSE I CAN HAVE YOU BUT I DON'T ******* WANT YOU. I DON'T WANT YOU TO HAVE TO DEAL WITH THE BIG ******* DISASTER THAT I AM. I WANT MORE FOR YOU THAN I WANT FOR MYSELF. IS THAT LOVE? I ******* LOVE YOU MORE THAN I WILL EVER LOVE MYSELF AND IT ******* HURTS. I AM FULL OF FEELINGS THAT I CAN'T ******* GET OUT. I KEEP ON REPLAYING OUR LAST WORDS TO ONE ANOTHER LIKE A ******* LOVE SONG IN MY HEAD. WE WERE NOT A ******* LOVE SONG AND WE WERE NOT ART AND WE WERE NOT BEAUTIFUL. WHAT WERE WE? WE WERE A ******* CATASTROPHE. WE WERE TRAGEDY. IT ******* HURT WHEN WE COLLIDED. I COLLAPSE IN AGONY BECAUSE THE THOUGHT OF YOU ******* HURTS. I FEEL MY BODY CRUMBLING FROM THE GRIEF LIKE A SOGGY CARD BOARD BOX LEFT IN THE RAIN. IT ******* HURTS SEEING YOUR SMILE SHATTER ON EVERY FLOOR, WALL, DOOR, WINDOW, AND MIRROR IN MY MIND. I AM RIPING MY SKIN TO SHREDS AND WRECKING THIS ROOM BUT THE THING THAT ******* HURTS IS YOU.

IT ******* HURT BEFORE WE CRASHED INTO EACH OTHER.
IT ******* HURT WHEN WE FELL IN LOVE.
AND IT ******* HURTS NOW THAT YOU'RE GONE.

It hurts.
It will always ******* hurt.

Enveloping darkness
clusters around me,
leaving me sightless, soundless -
My chest wishes to burst open for the only thing left is
the slow clutch of my grieving hand
riping away the dead flesh
that surrounds my fleeing heart
and crushes my hollow bones
so darkness can eat away the warmth
that slowly pumps away -
fading into a steady buzz,
leaving me dead... I'm gone.

She feels the sweat,the heavyness of a body against hers, the weight holding her down, she wakens from watever was in the cloth that was put over her nose and realizes that a man is on top of her a man is doing this to her, he is riping at her clothes, tearing at everything she has, gettin inside and pushing and pushing himself all the way, she tries to cry out and fight but it is no use, she panics and everything clicks, she is getting *****, some man is in her own home ****** her, he never looks at her never once looks down, he keeps griping her tighter and tighter as he releases everything, she feels the sweat of his brow hit her check, or maybe its just her tears, He whisper"don't say a word, or i'll just do it again, but even if you do noone will believe you". He leaves her alone in her bedroom, noone herd her or him, her family was home but nothing, she gets a shower and wonders at 13 and in her own home. How? Why?

The guitar sounds off the mic
Open air outside , a quiet room awaits
Warm breeze silently enters
And she stands there
Mesmerized by him
For the music produces love

the vibrations of strings touch my soul like a a million duffel bags
o where Im I going with this rhyme
I am inspired by my love , by my hate , or by anything this thought creates
To touch flat bottom or fly away in space

I am as calm as the still winter sky
From my smoke you can always tell god is my giving tale.

I can describe one particular event with this man
where we went into space
And it sounded like neil young riping away my soul, Every single note a little further away, pure ecstasy flyes me away
uncotrolable movement of the soul
Dance of the gods
Of pure feeling
Of love.
Music , the love our soul creates , the true voice of the soul
Where on does not find the meaning , but the feeling
Love it takes me away.”

In my heart l felt ur throbs like water drop in the winter so sober the breeze blew from inside and you held me in between linger and staying forever bcus its riping you apart but how love wrapped you up in sudden warms is amazing like sunlight In my heart you died into empty echoes but love made this clarion call that waked up ur spirit again

Sometimes saying yes is easier than saying no and because of that, I can’t call myself a victim.
I didn’t technically say yes, but I technically didn’t say no.
What happened was that he leaned into me closely and he whispered in my ear what he had been planning to do to me.
The ways that he had dreamed of riping apart my body limb by limb.
How he would take his time on each and every inch of my body until I was unable to move and how it would be so intense my body would still shake for hours afterwards.
To him, it sounded like a fantasy. To me, it sounded like a massacre.
My heart started to race and my blood grew cold.
My veins filled with the blasting sound of sirens that couldn’t seem to make it past the concrete that had filled my throat.
I couldn’t say no.
I couldn’t say anything.
I doubted that my body would be left shaking because my body froze so quickly that I couldn’t move any part of it at all.
He began to tear my clothes as though it was Christmas and my body was the present under the tree that he had been waiting months to get his hands on.
Maybe I should have felt like a present, maybe it should have made me feel wanted.
But I didn’t feel wanted and I didn’t want to be a present.
I wanted to be coal. I wanted to be tossed aside and thrown out
I didn’t realize it would only be a matter of time before that happened too.
I won’t go into depth about how precisely he carried out every detail of his plan.
I won’t describe too thoroughly how his hands felt like sandpaper as he threw me around the room and how the saliva coming off of his tongue felt like acid burning my body with each and every taste that he took of me.
I won’t recount how many bite marks and bruises were left on my body the same way that skid marks are left on a road when somebody is trying to escape the scene of a crime too quickly.
What I will tell you though is that only real sandpaper was strong enough to get the feeling of his hands off of my body.
I’ll tell you that I can’t even close my eyes without seeing his lure down at me with a look that’s ignited by fires of pure desire and a hunger for stripping away last traces of innocence.
I’ll tell you that my clothes from that day were torn into shreds smaller than the pieces of shattered glass that fell to the floor as I broke every mirror inside of my house so that I wouldn’t have to look at myself again and feel the disgust of that day.
Pure, unfiltered, deathly disgust.
Enough to cause the acid in my stomach to rise into my mouth as I lean over toilet seats and sit on the shower floor with water so hot beating down on me as I pray that it melts the skin right off of my bones.
Disgust.
Disgust that I was over there. Disgust that I couldn’t see this coming.
Disgust that I had put myself in this position. Disgust that my body froze instead of deciding to fight.
I froze. I was frozen.
To call myself a victim just doesn’t seem fair.
With a body full of bricks and a throat filled with concrete I was frozen,
And I couldn’t say no.