scorp

When we fall asleep, where do we go?

The bony hands were just too familiar.

Part 2 of Timed 8 days...8 days to live...

~ in which i torture my friends ~ "I can't-I can't breathe!" screeched Anna. "OH MY GOD OH MY GOD HELP I DIDN'T CONSENT TO THIS-" Katya yelled. I giggled as the wind rushed back.

I should have seen the hate in your eyes. I should have known your perfect disguise.

There’s a monster here, crawling in my bed. I can hear its breath. Harsh, raspy, taunting. Through my nightmares it’s well fed. I’m too scared to turn around, it’s too daunting.

Real romance isn't something hopeless, or unenergetic like stale poetry, or futile like canned compliments.

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.

Glistening black tar of the feathers of birds I let the storm brew, from tears to hate.

And I feel like since my life has been so easygoing so far, I don't need to pay with stress, but with guilt.

He didn't move that piece. So now the question was, who did?

I could barely hear the rain over the thundering of my heart.