'addiction'
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She cried as she slashed at her skin,
It wasn’t the razor that hurt her but the feeling of sin.
She wished she didn’t have to do this,
But how else would she feel bliss?
She cried as she slashed at her skin,
It wasn’t the razor that hurt her but the feeling of sin.
She wished she didn’t have to do this,
But how else would she feel bliss?
You pity for their illness but don’t have the guts to name it.
Is it sin amongst good faith, or faith that you’re above their sin?
You were fed morality off of a silver spoon.
looking into a tilted half filled cup in the dark,
with your thumb and the index around the brim
qualifies so much for an eye from hades, I know
it tastes like sting, but something dreadful is staring
In my palm it is mere powder
Soft and silky
White like snow.
But in my veins
It is harsh and aggressive,
It burns like a wild fire,
Day and night
I get encroached
By it's haughtiness.
Lately I've been feeling like alphabet soup,Well, alphabet spaghettios because those taste better. Out of all the types of spaghettios, The ones with meatballs, franks, less sodium,I chose alphabet noodles.
A small town near the ocean is what I first called home.I remember my mother, my sisters, and my father.I remember the laughter & cheer, the fights & tears.I remember father.
