| Current mood: |  calm |
| Current music: | bike |
wrote this a couple hours ago
waking up to realize that this life is much more lucid than the scary dream. Hoping to find some one who i dont only need but who needs me too, to be taken away from it all if a mystery of love. Scars are faded, bumpy, and gashed but no more does blood currupt my skin. No more do i sit with my wollowed worries and a razor to tear away my flesh, so push aside skin to see the blood run threw. Now im left with pain scars memories and realization. To realize that every one saw right threw it, seeing everything. I once was or tryed to me somthing i felt was true but lies filled me head as much as blood dripped off my legs. Slowly you take pleasure in people watching you, seeing you with all of it, and instead of stopping them you let them take all the stairs they want. Old pain is nothing but memories. Now. Instead of blood to my skin i push killer stix and power and leaf's againt my lips to get highs and buzzes of fake relaxation only now realizing thatits only momentarily. I wait for non-realistic phone calls, and un head words. 5 brokens years and millions of tears later im still living im my own reality of nothing. Calling on myself to come to some conclusion i see the lucid fakes of all my days and all i can think is
You are still the same nothing as you were, you will always be that nothing. But even a nothing should be able to do somthing.
Yourself, is harder to find than him, whos harder to see, than it.
(Read comments)
|
