And to you who has left me. You who took my all. You who broke me, ruined me. Resentment and hatred are too strong and love is too soft. Deep cuts, deep slices who invoke dark red streams against your soft ivory palette are the only thanks you deserve. Dark red streams and pools of black, black death. I wish I could pay you back for what you did to me with that.
The loneliness that I carry on my back all the time is more than a burden. It's a deep pain. It's a deep blanket of pain that covers my shivering body only to make me colder and colder. I don't want to be alone anymore.
written on 2003-04-02 at 2:35 p.m.
she / lost