I can hear the words that leave your mouth years after you've left. Echoing in my mind. The games you play are not going to be tolerated anymore. I may win this game . . . . I think that if you looked the other way, I could kill this time. Your words repeating over and over in my mind as I try to piece together the puzzle. Nothing makes sense. Your lies have plagued the air around you.
Every breath you breathe exhales a lie. Looking down at my notepad I scribble and doodle down the emotions that are devouring my mind. I'm stupefied and dumbfounded by your sheer manipulation and deceit. The many comforts of your words have worn away and decayed with time. Leaving scars that cannot be mended, and burns that cannot be healed.
The walls are closing in, as I lay here scribbling on my paper. Pouring out my thoughts onto this piece of notebook paper. I'll probably bun it later. No matter. As long as I get what I think out. I feel sick . . . mostly because of what I write and draw; but also because of what I think. The world is cold; But I'm colder. Mainly because of what I've witnessed and endured.
I feel like I've been stricken with a sickness. . . .
Btw readers I drew that picture first XD This Journal entry style writing is a product of listening to the full "Sickness" album by Disturbed. I hope you enjoyed it.
YOU ARE READING
Disturbing
HorrorI usually write my stories to music. Disturbed is my favorite band, and the music is very inspiring. I thought I'd write a story or a collection of stories while listening to an album.
