“Well you see…” I look into her eyes as she speaks to me. She is light, she is love, and that’s all. That’s all that is. She’s having problems loosing herself from her world, but she’ll be fine. She’s doing fine. She bit me the other day, and even though I bled, I told her it didn’t hurt. Anything for her, even if it hurts me. Death for her, even if I’m not ready. When she’s with me there is only ok, there is no excellent because I hurt for her; there is no pain because she is light and love. There simply IS. And after all has been said and done, and the sky falls and the world ends. After all our dreams have been realized and shattered just as easily. It’s an understanding just for you and me.
She is mine; she is that which sustains me. She sips my blood everyday; little by little she controls herself. Little by little I don’t die. But then she kisses me, and I fall, and I’m lost. And I begin to die, she is life, she is love. She helped me LIVE and made me die.
Aid my soul, I’m gone now. She ate my heart out, she is a monster.
I am a monster. I love you, I kiss you, and I eat your heart. I am a monster. I stab you, I kill you, and I help you die. I am a monster. I am ashamed. I wish I could be killed. I wish I could die. I wish someone could drain my blood, my very life away. Drain me. All away. Eat my heart.
In my world there is only me. A blank sheet of paper with simple blue lines. A composition waiting to be written, biding it’s time. I’m just a monster and I don’t understand. Why was I born a monster? It’s sick, it’s cruel, and it’s nasty. But then again it’s ok. Not the best but alright. I wish…
She could die. What she wants is to die; I want it for her so bad it hurts my soul. She wants to see me die. She wants to see me go away. I wish I could kill her, I wish I could make her die. Just so she’d be happy. I love my monster, I love my monster.
Silly. Stupid. Idiotic. I won’t die. I CAN’T die. My existence is a question mark; my life a run-on sentence. I’m not a paragraph, I’m a story. But I don’t even END. Where in hell do I begin? I am an abomination, but it’s ok.
She’s a monster, but it’s okay. She killed me but it’s alright. She can’t die….But she’ll be fine. My baby will be fine.
“Kiss me…” and I can’t resist. I know she is a monster but I want this. She’s letting me have her; she’s so sweet, so sweet. And then…it’s dark.
She is mine; she is that which sustains me. She sips my blood everyday; little by little she controls herself. Little by little I don’t die. But then she kisses me, and I fall, and I’m lost. And I begin to die, she is life, she is love. She helped me LIVE and made me die.
Aid my soul, I’m gone now. She ate my heart out, she is a monster.
I am a monster. I love you, I kiss you, and I eat your heart. I am a monster. I stab you, I kill you, and I help you die. I am a monster. I am ashamed. I wish I could be killed. I wish I could die. I wish someone could drain my blood, my very life away. Drain me. All away. Eat my heart.
In my world there is only me. A blank sheet of paper with simple blue lines. A composition waiting to be written, biding it’s time. I’m just a monster and I don’t understand. Why was I born a monster? It’s sick, it’s cruel, and it’s nasty. But then again it’s ok. Not the best but alright. I wish…
She could die. What she wants is to die; I want it for her so bad it hurts my soul. She wants to see me die. She wants to see me go away. I wish I could kill her, I wish I could make her die. Just so she’d be happy. I love my monster, I love my monster.
Silly. Stupid. Idiotic. I won’t die. I CAN’T die. My existence is a question mark; my life a run-on sentence. I’m not a paragraph, I’m a story. But I don’t even END. Where in hell do I begin? I am an abomination, but it’s ok.
She’s a monster, but it’s okay. She killed me but it’s alright. She can’t die….But she’ll be fine. My baby will be fine.
“Kiss me…” and I can’t resist. I know she is a monster but I want this. She’s letting me have her; she’s so sweet, so sweet. And then…it’s dark.
