It's not all beauty and gore.
Not all soft sweet kisses and unjustified cruelty.
You'll never see me fall to the floor or hide behind other peoples broken pieces.
So, dear.
Tell me what it's like to be adored. How nothing ever stays where it should
Remind me again of all those reasons that kept your eyes blind and hands bound by your sides.
Remind me again about how, "It's just how I was raised!"
To stay frozen where you stood. Either being blazed or dazed. If you stand still long enough, will you finally get some praise?
What is there to resent? What more is there to ask for?
Other than some basic consent.
This blade was never pretty. These band aids on my knees were never cute.
Every pray i made swept away so I stayed awake, waiting for these thoughts to stray, but they only ever grew. Enough to weigh me down
So yet again I stay awake, waiting for my decaying mind to finally break. Hoping for the world to finally know what was at stake.
So, dear. Tell me what it's like to be adored.
Distract me from all this gore...
YOU ARE READING
The diary of Seth Alexander
No Ficciónas the title suggests, this is legit going to be my diary. and yes, most diaries are supposed to be secret, but I have always been an open book. I like to pretend to be mysterious, but the people around me will all tell you that I am am someone who...
