Butterflies

Reads 633
Votes 81
Parts 15
Time 6m

Reads 633
Votes 81
Parts 15
Time 6m

Emotions are like butterflies, gnawing at your stomach lining, filled with nerves. They lie dead, filled with grief. They escape, filled with hope. Blossoming into a reigning monarch in success and happiness.All Rights Reserved

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15 parts

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He always assumes I want money. That money can replace my desire for a mother, for a female figure who will guide me through the darkness. All he can provide is money. He assumes that because I use the money, that I'm happy, that I don't spend night hunched over my toilet bowl physically sick to my stomach with the guilt of killing my mother. He assumes that because I have friends, that the smile on my face is genuine. That because I smile and confidently stride out of my room in a bikini, that I love myself and the way I look. He assumes everything about me, because he doesn't know me. I'm his daughter, and with the simple fact, he assumes that by just looking at me he knows my every thought. Does he know of the blood I spill when I have no other method of coping? Does he know of the times I sit and ponder about what it would be like to go through death? Does he know that when he leaves for work, I cry myself to sleep and wish for a mother? Does he know that I could care less about him? I hate him. But he loves me. Does he know, that through all this mess, I just want a mother. Because according to Disney, mother knows best?

Sadness doesn't suit a pretty face like yours. Tell me. What does? Happiness.

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Theirs More 2 My Lyfe Then You Think You May Know by patriciahurt12

There's a lot of things a lot of people don't know about my life.they May think I got it bad but they haven't seen bad or know what it is to have it bad.theres secrets,lies,pain,hurt,and truth to every word that nobody would understand what I went through unless they where in my shoes and been through what I been through.

Not all truths are meant to last, Some are buried in the past. Step too close, the lines will blur, What you seek may not concur. Watch your path and mind your trust, Silence lingers, thick with dust. A victory won, a price untold- Not all secrets should unfold. - The Silent Victory💎

From my mind, to the page, with some editing in between. Thoughts, rants, blurb etc.

Poetry and shit. Emotions and all that

Life was not how they imagined it. But if one door closes, another will open and you can find unexpected things... or people behind that door. Cover by https://www.instagram.com/la_pencilartist/

You know how when you do not want to talk and you say "I'm fine." You do. We have all been there. A fake smile, forced laugh, then you go home and cry. But, then, you find out a huge secret with holes missing. You want to find out all the answers. Basically, your life is full of twists and turns. Answers yo questions that you must find.

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He may look happy without you, and he may think you're happy without him, but there's a difference between think and know. You may look like you're at peace and all is okay, but deep down you know you're dying inside, and so long as you act like nothing is wrong and nothing happens to break you from character, no one will know. The border between a lie and the truth is yourself. You are the door that separates an extravagant exterior fantasy from a hidden dark reality. And the smallest opening will break it down. But without it you'll never know what happens behind closed doors.

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He always assumes I want money. That money can replace my desire for a mother, for a female figure who will guide me through the darkness. All he can provide is money. He assumes that because I use the money, that I'm happy, that I don't spend night hunched over my toilet bowl physically sick to my stomach with the guilt of killing my mother. He assumes that because I have friends, that the smile on my face is genuine. That because I smile and confidently stride out of my room in a bikini, that I love myself and the way I look. He assumes everything about me, because he doesn't know me. I'm his daughter, and with the simple fact, he assumes that by just looking at me he knows my every thought. Does he know of the blood I spill when I have no other method of coping? Does he know of the times I sit and ponder about what it would be like to go through death? Does he know that when he leaves for work, I cry myself to sleep and wish for a mother? Does he know that I could care less about him? I hate him. But he loves me. Does he know, that through all this mess, I just want a mother. Because according to Disney, mother knows best?

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