I have forced myself to write.
Every day and every night.
When I can't sleep,
The words are my comfort when dreams fail to do so.
What I fear the most is in my dreams
I force myself awake just to cut away the memories of the past,
The fears of the future.
They think you sing to me,
But I think you sing to her.
You swear you love only me.
But your actions tell me the truth through the facades.
I hate my mind, and the way it works.
Twisting every thought to the worst case scenario.
I hoped you'd never leave me,
hold me tight, Hug and kiss only me,
But my dreams reveal the fears I hate.
You leave me for her and drag my broken heart down to hell. She rips me apart with her perfectly straight white teeth, her sharp red nails digging through me. Why? Well, I may never know. The pain is enough for my mind to fuck me up to the point of self inflicted murder. The tempting flirt of the blade, dragging kisses on my skin on places no one is to see, drives me closers towards insanity. There is no PDA allowed in school, though the kisses would be far worse upon my wrist then any other kisses on my body.
The temptations to let the blade kiss my neck gets worse the more I stare at the ceiling with tears rolling down my cheeks.
Should I let him ever so softly?
Would I live to see my cousin to collage, if he ever went?
Would my words ever reach the ears of those who need it most?
Perhaps not.
And though fear fuels my determined mind, the only hope I have is to cheat so subtly with a blade.
You have known of my habits, telling me not to.
But the blades glimmering edge flirts with my mind, and tells me it's OK and that he'll never know.