Love Braham
Surrounded. I was always surrounded by love, maybe even a little too much. My mother loved me so much that the only name she could come up with to define that love was "Love."
Love? What is it exactly? How can we know that the feelings shared by those around us are really love? Is it love to be kind, to give attention, to be compassionate, or to die in the place of a loved one?
I've often observed people, especially the way they talk.
"If you do this for me, I'll be happier."
Manipulation.
"There's only you in my eyes, if you die, I'll never get over it."
The Lie.
"I'd give my life to protect you."
Pride.
Man will do anything to get what he wants; he'll manipulate, lie, show ego and pride to get what he wants.
Love brings all these things together, love is suffocating, hurtful, and is only given to those who deserve it.
Being Loved by a mother is sometimes too stifling, being overprotected barely able to keep your head above water.
Disobeying the rules is synonymous with branded violence.
Be kind and be rewarded for your good deeds.
Mother bitch, suffocating you was the best decision of my life.
I'd like a world where we could express our wildest desires: murder, kidnapping, violence, torture, abuse.
Just a world tinted black and gray stained red. "The world of Love Braham.
Filled with docile puppies.
Where love has no place, ever!
Only nothingness, destruction and bruised desires would be accepted.
Pain would be the gentle melody that would punctuate "My World".
YOU ARE READING
Obsessive Control ( Under publishing contract )
RomanceIn a back seat, which is where she was when she woke up after losing consciousness. But whose back seat was it? Her body shackled, she couldn't escape him. He knew everything about her. Her Obsession was like no other. Between madness and obsess...
