scorp

I don't trust myself with you. But I see in your eyes, I'm being used. Everytime I let myself fall, I get bruised.

A short funny story many people know.

My name, my birth right, what I am.

I'll go to your garden, I'll go to your grave.

You're broken, but I am always here. Always here to put you back together. One by one. Piece by piece.

A battered soul, a battered body. WARNING: VIOLENCE. Do not take this lightly.

sometimes i wonder if there’s a point to even writing this

writing is unseeing.

A short sad poem about loss.

to all the people who only how to bring light to the world, thank you!

It's withering flowers unique numb gloss, it's what dies inside of us while we live

I will rise above you,  Far above, And make you pay.