Loving Hatred

The boy with the cuts down his arms

He sighs as he looks at her. Falling further and further out of love. Her. He smiles, he laughs, he enjoys her company. He believes every word she has to say; only to get hurt by her dreadful words, when her ugly truths began to unmask themselves, emerging from behind the long, black cloak that they possess. Her icy stare grew colder. She began shut him out. She left him all alone; he is now more broken than ever before; his blood runs down his arms, hotter and thicker, he just lets his wounds bleed, let's them sting and hurt. In fact, he encouraged them to do just that, he encouraged them to grow deep, to worsen his pain. He is the boy with the cuts down his arms.