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[random writing i found in my closet]
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A Troubled Past A simple sentence constructed of three words can change a life and one can bathe in happiness.
But those words can rip you apart and the weight of the pain sinks into you like dragging you deeper into a lake.
The thought of suicide is the only hope for survival?
My thoughts arranged in my harmony is my judgement and it's what counts.
Maybe my contradictions bring out the best in me.
You're the only one that can penetrate me like a needle, and release all the fluids inside until I feel my knees go weak, my heart beats faster, the fluids infecting me with your electricity.
What are the common compounds that adds and divides that finally equals to love?
I'd faint on the busiest street in this town for that look of yours that allows me to call you mine.
My heart's a quilt of crimson stains.
Using pins and needles with the finest tip that slices through the layers with the slightest touch.
A sliver; a stinger that releases toxic fumes.
And I sit here with scissors, glue, and magazines, cutting away my least favorite imperfections and creating a collage about how my internal being looks.
Do lovers die for the wrong reasons and fighters kill for the right?
