These false-hope wishes, on the first star I see are taking a toll on me. My fears have manifested through self-inflicted pain, and art I mastered years ago.
Self-mutilation has never looked so lovely.
Secretly beneath my skin there's a porcelin dionne, held together by rotted old duct tape. Finely manicured nails lie across my lap, with my legs crossed at the ankles.
How could something so horrible look so beautiful?
A heart that seems so broken, really isn't broken at all. My scars from my past haunt me everyday, which makes me appear to be suffocating, dieing slowly.
I'm about to rip aprt at the seams and no one knows why.
I walk fast with my head down, ashamed of the life I've lived in the past years. I get home and go into the bathroom and I begin to draw letters, numbers, pictures, and symbols. (Keep in mind I'm an artist.)
I grow weak at the knees, and I float away into the porcelin mess of nothing that I always was, and hope my masterpieces get justice one day.
Author notes
yup, i was feelin horrible in biology today.
iloveyoohguys.
babeh(s)
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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wow
ok my favorite porcelin doll -
wow Dionne morbid as always lol just playing with you hope you feel better soon, remeber school isn't forever it will be over soon enough then you might even miss it, sometimes I do
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wow this was incredible self inflicted pain is the best I love it Im almost tempted to start again this poem was so good I lvoed it the words were so lovely I enjoyed it so much I loved it great job
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