Sta.sh
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Shit. I can't help but thinkShit. by ~KittYxPandAxJeffereY
that maybe I've pushed a little too hard,
and maybe I've taken advantage of your
elasticity
to my erratic moods.
Think that maybe,
this time,
I've fucked it up beyond repair.
The funny thing is I don't want to cry
or to scream,
I don't feel angry, nor upset,
I feel nothing.
Right now I cannot feel the pain
of losing you,
there are no sharp daggers in my chest,
and I have no need to
beg for you back.
I feel perfectly numb, and it's okay.
relapse. Vulnerable.relapse. by ~KittYxPandAxJeffereY
These are the days when shutting down
is welcome,
when music isn't a soothing hand.
She scoffs at compliments
of her innocence.
Innocence.
A common theme,
a reoccurring nightmare.
Thick bold letters stir dark emotions.
She is so happy that it
all breaks apart.
These are days when
Earth is too much a burden
(leaving is a temporary pain).
She doesn't belong.
It hurts when others view her as
happy, bubbly
when all she feels is
bitter bitter hatred selfish heartache
pain pain pain
blurring rushing stabs
and she wants it to end anyway she can
she doesn't care anymore
she's tired and restless and
everyone calls her cute
dense airy st
Simplicity--- She had a childish abandon about her,Simplicity--- by ~KittYxPandAxJeffereY
and it's so obvious when she smiles.
It's not innocence as many assume from
her curled up posture, of her blush from taboo,
but rather a light air, an urge to remain
in the state of ignorance she had lost.
She still takes pleasure in colouring with
crayons and jumping in puddles, and
it all shows in her eyes when she smiles.
It's not the world of being taken care of, or a fear
of growing up that drives her to sink back
in her mind, but an attraction to simple things.
To be able to look at purple as purple,
not as violet or lavender,
her favourite colour when asked:
"purple."
No shade, no
"
