Sadness

25/01/2012 18:44

 

Let me paint you a picture, 
I don't have a canvas. 
So I'll use words. 
I don't have happy fiction story. 
So I'll just use cold painful truth.

And i wont have your eyes
to look at a "wonderful piece of art'.
I'll simply have you mind 
in my pocket and i'll leave 
regretful feelings in your sole. 

You may change your mind as you read on,
but just remember these feelings don't last long. 

Well maybe not for you. 
For the fact they are not yours. 
They belong to a girl. 
Not just another girl. 
A girl with stories scared on her arms. 
With more being written every day. 

People see them, 
they wonder what the story is.
But that never truly care enough
to really to find out.
That would take to much time. 

So all of he secret crys for help get 
pushed aside and called "emo" and a "Cutter". 
She knows she can't change their minds about her, 
so she gets really good at hiding it.
To the point where no one knows. 

Smart girl i must say. 
Pushes every one away
so she can't get hurt more,
tells no one what is going on. 
And slowly dies on the inside. 
She soon becomes a shell of her former self. 
No fight in her eyes. 
Love in her hart,
or dreams in her mind.

Everything is wast on her 
because she had to stop caring.
She had to shove it all away 
to make it though the day. 
Some people noticed... 
but knew that they couldn't do anything. 
Some people watched
but didn't know what was going on. 
Until she knew what she was. 

She couldn't lie to herself anymore. 
She knew what she had to face up to.
And she knew she had to do as her father once said 
and "STOP BAITING IT".and "GET IT OVER WITH". 

Then the time came,
She left no letter
because if they knew
what was truly going on they would blame 
them selves 
And she didn't want to cause anymore trouble
then she knew she all ready would.

This time she got our a new pack of razors. 
Opened them with ever so much care. 
Picked the one 3rd down 
because she was demented like that.
Slipped the paper off
and cut for the a last time. 

Down the Street, not across the road.
She knew she was going to hell. 
But this way she wouldn't have to wait to die. 
It was all ready over with. 

She laid there running water over the cuts.
She never regretted it. 
She was smart. 
She knew she wanted this,
knew she wanted to be over. 

All over it, just over. 
As she slipped out of conciseness
and closed her eyes for the last time,
I knew for once. 
I did the right thing for me once. 

Now how do you feel? 
Like a brand new puppy? 
like you could take on the world? 

Well did i paint a picture for you 
that you would put in your wall? 
Or did i just fill you with regret? 

Ether way, I control how you feel. 
Lucky me, because if you took the time to care 
about this damn girl she wouldn't have died. 

So lucky me i control a bunch of mindless, 
selfish, useless blobs of nothing. 
like I could really do some damage with that.

 

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