Fragments Clinging to the End

[johnnyruin]

They were black roses that bloomed inside of me.  The kind of creation that destroys you.  Eats away until it makes you less than nothing.  A negative, a shell standing in empty space.  Cut you out like cancer.  Twisting the knife was the easy part.  Harder was hiding the bitter grin you only see on successful suicides.  Watched them wither on  hot

Comments

I'm sorry.

[anonymous]

I believe now, reading this, that I have confused you with the post about the princessism, and her dress. I don't know you, they were practically random thoughts, and not a teardrop painting for forgiveness, just something for you. From random girl 32,659. The dress is all crusted with blood it seems, perhaps now I'll put on something bright yellow, and dance in a cloud of dirt, stand in the corner and recite the Lord's Prayer. So sorry, scold me.