I've been gone for a while, but here's something I wrote a bit ago (:
As usual, it muchly needs your help.
Look at me because I’m about to be the one you never see again.
Remember this moment because moments pass like beauty,
they blossom, they fade, they die.
Water that flower well and you might just make it last a little longer.
Sometimes there aren’t any words between the lines,
sometimes they’re written because we are meant to be able to understand them clearly,
because our cleverly crafted shields create our pain,
or catch it like a shadow and reflect it to another.
I sat in my own puddle of blood yesterday,
watching it flurry like a morbid snowstorm in the warm water gathered on the tiles.
Is it so hard to understand?
I want
to hurt myself.
Give me a reason to stop learning.
I could tell you mine: because sometimes the answer is disappointment that there isn’t one.
You want
to know why.
Is it so hard to simply ask?
Don’t be afraid to lose; sometimes losing is all we have.
Feel pain because you’ll wish you could when you can’t.
People will tell you not to go to that particular substitute or other,
but fuck anyone who tells you what to do.
Tell them you enjoy the darkness,
the absence
of anything that doesn’t leave a mark.
Write to happiness in your own blood and tell it that you want to erase your scars on your own.
It wants
to spin fantasies.
If I’m leaving now it’s because I want to.
If I’m hiding it’s because I don’t want help.
I want to feel the way others do.
Everyone likes to think they contribute to they world in some way,
well be happy; they do.
When you do, contribute in a good way.
Make sure you go down trying for something.
We all want
to feel good.
