Rants, Poems, and More Rants (Updated Periodically)

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Obviously, your image of love is distorted. Contorted into some break-and-enter fantasy that only appears in my worst of dreams. Some things never change, but your heart will have to if you don't want to end up alone and in your grave with nothing but the earth and worms to keep your dissipating, graying body company, because obviously the ones who don't believe in love, can't believe in Heaven. But luckily, I believe in both.

Nothing good is going to come from this. Evacuate the premises! I'm going under. Will I ever come up? Was I ever above the surface in the first place? Hear the crowd shout in unison- NO! A million voices cheering as I fall The best for me. Melancholy. The walls are whispering, taunting me; "Your future is over, before it even began!"

I'm a screw up, a mistake I want to erase without hurting the ones I love once again. I'd trade my black soul for a body I haven't been trained to be ashamed of! If I had curves maybe I'd have the nerve to sweep the hair out of my face. There are days I'd rather just disappear, evaporate; confiscate my own breathing privileges. I can talk about death like the weather on a particularly sunny day. I count the minutes til' the next one comes along. I'm always wrong. I am never proud. I wind my self up like a child's toy everyday just to keep moving- and sometimes I can't even do that. Over and over again... just to keep my heart beating. I wish faith came easily, because for me, everyday feels like a struggle. Even though I'm lucky to be free.... I still feel contained, on a chain like a bad dog. I never, ever know when I'm real or faking, weaving a mask onto the surface. I'm mean to people, and they don't even know it. I'm so, SO angry and I can't even show it. I hide behind paper and words I don't understand. I'm so secretive, I write letters to people that they will never receive. I pretend to be colorful, but I'm really just a couple of horrific shades of shitty black and gray; a rainbow of colors that don't fit together; a hell bent facade of whatever remains after I've taken all out of myself that I can reach.

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