Poison in my veins (BoyxBoy)

vanilla

JJ•

I slammed the door behind me,the wind-chime my father bought my mother once clanging from the wind.

My father started saying how my mother is getting fat,pointing to her skin that used to hold me when I cried.

She screamed,calling him colorful names,throwing a vase he bought her at his head.

He ducked and laughed when she missed.

I stomped down the stairs,invisible to their eyes as they fought like cats and dogs.

Even invisible when I slammed the door,making the frame shake violently.

I rolled my eyes,wishing that someone could take them away from here.

Send me new parents,ship them to me from across the seas.

Just get rid of the ones I had now,they clearly don't care about me.

And I don't really care for them,too snotty and bitchy.

They're too...spoiled.

I kick rocks and pieces of dirt I see littering the street,hoping a car comes and flattens me on the pavement.

Splat!

It'd be over before I could blink.

I could become a permanent decoration on the street,an ugly bloody decoration that scars the ground.

A cat crosses my path,it's bright orange fur glowing in the moon light.

I watch it slink away,never once paying me the slightest bit of attention.

It's too proud to stare at me,like royalty it scurries to the bushes to hide from wandering eyes in the night.

I walk slowly,breathing the air of the cold night into my lungs.It burns on the way down,but it's a delicious pain I like.

I breathe deeper,wanting to scorch my lungs as bad as a smokers.

Maybe I should take up smoking,the thought seeming sweet to my lungs.

Maybe If I do I'll get hooked,hooked enough I die from want.

That sounds sweet.

Being so hooked you die.

So hooked you die from addiction.

The wind picks up,rustling the leaves in a violent dance as they sway back and forth.

I stare in fascination as a small branch from a nearby tree snaps,sounding painful in a good way.

It falls to the ground,sad and dead to the tree above.

I smirk and keep walking,the smallest taste of a rainstorm in the air.

The sky above cracks,sounding like glass cracking against a brick wall.

The sound gives me delicious chills.

I see my destination,an old abandoned playground only used for druggies now,and smile.

I march through the sand,it staining my shoes from the small rainstorm that passed us earlier.

I make my way to the swings,trailing my fingers over the cold metal that feels so rough.

My finger snags on a screw,biting the skin slightly open.

I smile at the pain,a cold pain that reminds me I'm alive.

I sometimes forget that honestly,thinking I'm some person in a story someone's reading or writing.

I feel fake,fake like the Barbie dolls little girls play with in their dollhouses.