The anger boils in my blood. The world I create in my mind tells me I'm just a fool. I have loved... haven't I? I have all these thoughts in my head and you care not to even head a slight plea. I love unconditionally, but I feel like ripping the hair out of my head and my heart out of my chest. I give so much and receive nothing in return. This blank slate cannot be erased once written on. I've thought so much and yet have written nothing. I am nothing but what dreams I have. I am nothing but the tears I shed. My ambition can withstand ever so much change, but for the life of me... I lack conviction. I wish to shed a thousand tears, but nothing escapes. I feel creatures crawling in my skin. I want to cut away all the dead pieces of me. I wish I could rip open my skull and dig out all the evil lurking in my mind. However, I am fully aware I would not the feel the pain. All good things consist of evil. I love, but cannot rid the urge to destroy, condemn, kill, bleed. So used to pain I do not know how to smile without crying silently after. If only you knew. Who knew? I know. He told. I foreshadow the tearing of my wicked skin, so I create chaos in order to have a reason to binge.
