My skin is made of paper ( Read more... )

The loneliness settles around my shoulders.
A coat of sadness.

"I'm leaving."
Two words.
Words I fear most.

Why must you leave, my love?
Why won't you stay?
Please don't leave angry.

I know I'm not good enough.
I know how you feel.
I know.
I know.
I know.

I'm a fuckup.
I'm aware.

Is that why don't you love me anymore?

"It saddened me to say ( Read more... )

A heart beats ( Read more... )

I love you for your logic ( Read more... )

The flashbacks are so often now ( Read more... )

Slit her wrists ( Read more... )

I'm a girl. I was born a girl. I consider myself a girl. I'm a girl. I'm also the girl sometimes. The girl can mean a lot of things. But this is what it means to me.

I'm the girl who uses triple milled soap imported from france, listens to vinyl, and always has some sort of reading to be done.  I like white sheets, coffee mugs, and dishes. I like ( Read more... )

Darkness surrounds me ( Read more... )

London.

Watching a movie.
Intensity. Dean Koontz.

Breathing shortens.
Blood thickens.
Pulse runs fast.

Tears well up in unrested eyes.

I would sleep if I could.
Right now the instant coffee and malt liquor make that difficult.

Do I really give a shit?
No.

The day I learned what love meant was the day that my brother saved my life ( Read more... )

Blink.
Glance.

Breathe.
Pulse.

I feel as if there's gasoline in my veins,
and my mind has the matches.

Logic.
Emotion.

war.

War is raging under my skin.

Two years.
Suppressed memories.

Emptiness.
Familiar solitude.

Breathe.

Logic: I know I don't deserve what happened to me.
Emotion: But what if I invited it in?

You are a savage.

My mind is running rampant on this ( Read more... )