I have a note with,,,,, so much of this stuff.
I'm okay, tho btw. This is how I deal with these thoughts and feelings :)
Big fat trigger warning for suicide and self harm
(The drawing says kanashi which means 'sad' in Japanese)
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Her mom coughs.
Once, twice, sniffle, silence.
If her mom stood next to the door and strained her ears she might hear
the sound of a small blade.
Well, she might if the girl weren't singing.
She sang with emotion, to feel the pain.
S
he sang to cover it up, too.
The sound of a small blade.
She pulled it across her stomach.
Once, twice, pause to check, thrice.
The sound of a small blade.
Blood coming in rivulets.
The sound of a small blade.
==
Her Lover
A thousand times and a thousand ways she explained the pain. She reveled in it. The sadness. The flair. The anger. The fear.
It was something she loved.
She loved it like a girl would her lover.
Her lover didn't give her chocolates.
It gave her hunger pains.
Her lover didn't give hugs.
It gave her lacerations on her skin.
Her lover didn't cuddle her to sleep.
(Unless aching chests count).
Her lover didn't make her laugh and smile.
It filled her heart with lead.
No, her lover was a love of a different kind.
The kind of morbid fascination of momento mori.
Remember you will die her lover said instead of "i love you"
She didn't hate her lover.
She held her lover in high regard, letting it take over her life.
One night, her lover demanded something hard of her. She protested it, but her lover told her it would be better this way.
They found her in the morning.
Words were written in the finest cursive on the wall.
At last,
m y l o v e r
YOU ARE READING
Sparkly Trash
LosoweThis will basically be a visual randomness book. Mostly fandom, but there will be other content (occasionally). I always have something to say about an image, and usually have a story for every detail of a drawing. I also sometimes have full oneshot...
