(a/n) i've decided to re-do this story with a new aesthetic so please enjoy. here's the basics of what you'll find in this story:
- non capital letters are purposeful
- my writing can get fairly deep at times so i apologise
- my writing consists of: inappropriate language, mentions of death and suicide, sexual desires and fluffy poems
that is all, now enjoy my book.
16 / 4 / 2019
The dainty, china plates you purchased with love or the small petal hands that once belonged to mother.
Which would you dismember by smashing against the tiles tonight?
The flowers you bought mother this morning when your heart was full of love, now stained with the blood of her fingertips.
I watch from the corner, where my thoughts slice at my brain like the blade that will once again be attached to my wrists.
You laugh when i cry.
You snicker when i fall.
My back painted blue from being bruised against the kitchen wall.
