I've started a new account for all my more 'professional' pieces, now that I have dramatically improved. I won't be posting to this one anymore so if you want to continue to follow me, my new deviantID is
RyanI arrive at my boyfriends houseRyan by kml91225
He greets me with a somber expression
He's referring to the maze I cut into my hip
I unbutton my shorts and fold them down
As I expose the fresh red lines,
He lets out an audible gasp.
He looks up at me and his eyes display
Fear and surprise, he looks like a frantic trapped animal
He doesn't know what to do this time.
"Oh my God, Kristin. They've never been this bad."
He studies them more, I think I see tears pooling in his eyes
I slowly nod. I know these are bad. Worse than ever.
He recovers and takes control.
"We are cleaning those right now."
His voice is strong and comanding.
I know I can't say no.
I lay back in his bed while he rummages in the hall closet.
He returns with gauze, cotton balls, and rubbing alcohol.
He kneels on the ground and cleans them,
I grit my teeth at the pain, tears finally emerging.
I look down at him and the tears get worse.
How many boyfriends would clean out his girlfriends
Self inflicted wounds? As far as I kn
Locked Up, Straight JacketHey 2 AM,Locked Up, Straight Jacket by kml91225
Haven't seen you in a while.
Can't say I missed you,
I hate what happens
When I get to you.
I could call it desperation
But it feels more like going crazy.
Dark crazy, locked up, straight jacket crazy.
Visions of pools of blood and razor blades.
I know I'm getting worse.
Do I look better on the outside?
Of course not, not uncovered.
I've never been more covered in cuts.
I'm scared. They've never bled like this.
I'm such a disappointment.
I can't stop, I'm different,
It's infected me deeper.
I don't even care anymore.
But I know, because I can feel it
The "real me" is huddled deep inside
Afraid of the monsters
Scared of what she became.
Inside-OutsideI'm so broken...Inside-Outside by HighFlyingSwallows
I feel like I could blow away with the wind...
Or maybe that's just wishful thinking...
It's like everyone is inside my head,
Tearing at my
Do they even remember that I have feelings?
Do they even CARE whether I still have feelings?
I take all that they dish.
I keep on that iron smile.
I keep my head held high,
But on the inside I am crying,
I am curled up into a tight ball hyperventilating...
Gasping for air,
But finding only poison...
Poison that burns my throat,
Feels like needles in my chest...
I claw at my face,
I scream for help.
But all my cries are muffled by their selfish thoughts,
Their thought to be 'truths'
Current Residence: Somewhere In Canada|
Favourite genre of music: Heavy Metal, Rock, that sort of stuff
Personal Quote: "Why does the grass feel like pants?"