None of me makes sense when I am sad.
When I am feeling.
Perhaps that is why I can barely do my job.
Maybe if I ripped my cute fucking eyes out of their sockets, they would see the hideousness and pain inside, more than they already do, until everyone finally leaves me alone due to the grotesque appearance that would match my insane little spirit.
I looked towards the light once with actual hope; is that not funny? I smiled at the simple beauty of our world, only to find out that beauty was not meant for me. The loneliness cripples the heart while running away takes up all my body’s precious time.
At least for me. That’s the way it has always been.
I look at all the girls passing by, and I try to smile at them, and I want to talk to them, and I look at the boys, and I want to do so much more. But every time I fall in love, the hate and lust take over until nothing is left but a memory of the one I left behind.
Or, the one who left me behind.
Perhaps both.
I am chaos; only, I am not the important kind. Not the type that rips through the world like a tsunami; more so like a feral cat ready to shriek at any human who dares to take a glance.
When I am feeling.
Perhaps that is why I can barely do my job.
Maybe if I ripped my cute fucking eyes out of their sockets, they would see the hideousness and pain inside, more than they already do, until everyone finally leaves me alone due to the grotesque appearance that would match my insane little spirit.
I looked towards the light once with actual hope; is that not funny? I smiled at the simple beauty of our world, only to find out that beauty was not meant for me. The loneliness cripples the heart while running away takes up all my body’s precious time.
At least for me. That’s the way it has always been.
I look at all the girls passing by, and I try to smile at them, and I want to talk to them, and I look at the boys, and I want to do so much more. But every time I fall in love, the hate and lust take over until nothing is left but a memory of the one I left behind.
Or, the one who left me behind.
Perhaps both.
I am chaos; only, I am not the important kind. Not the type that rips through the world like a tsunami; more so like a feral cat ready to shriek at any human who dares to take a glance.