stained ;; myg

ten;;

here i am, i find myself in your room again. your scent lingers through the room.

it makes me feel comfortable and safe.

and there you are, looking at me with that usual bored eyes of yours.

if only i was normal, would you love me? would you look at me with such passion and admiration? would you look as me as a person and not someone insane? not someone who's not normal?

in another life, when i reborn as a new person, i'll make sure to find you, meet you, be with you, and fall for you all over again.

i'd make you love me too.

-

"sup," i greeted. "the ceiling," she said. i snorted, but she stayed silent. i looked at her suspiciously. "something bugging your mind?" i asked. "nope," she answered, looking up the ceiling. i stared at her eyes.

it seemed a bit... broken.

"you aight?" i asked again. "yep, why?" she looked at me, with a curious fake expression. "oh, it's nothing," i decided to just drop the topic off and continue on composing lyrics and stuff related to that. "i never understand why you're interested in that," she said, pointing at my notebook.

"i never understand why you kill people," i said. oh shit. "touché," phew, it's fine, it's fine. "but, neither do i," nope, it's not fine. you fucktard. you ruined everything. "it's just these voices are unstoppable, you know," she added. "then there came the point where it just had become my aesthetic," she continued. "and yes, i personally see the beauty in killing."

"but, i haven't been doing that now, just so you know," i know. "i've found my new aesthetic," she finished. "and that is?" i asked. "your room," she answered.

and you.

"oh."

to be honest,

the reason why

i keep her company

and stay by her side

and keep her busy

is because i don't want her

to take the lives of the

innocent people anymore.

because i hate her,

and i love her.