Para que mentir..

Para que mentir..

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WpMetadataReadComplete Wed, Jul 19, 2017<5 mins
Días de escrituras, de escapismos cotidianos, añorando cosas que ya no están, preciosa y precisa esa sonrisa en un día oscuro, soñar despierto con cosas que ya no están, dándole vueltas a las cosas, pensando de más en personas que solo piensan en los suyos, sintiéndote parte de ese pequeño círculo del cual, por mas que te engañes, no serás nunca. Me he cansado de fingir, de decir que todo esta bien, de que todo es perfecto, de que todo que todo me da igual por que no me afecta, me he cansado de engañarme joder, que el no verte me mata, no perderme en tus ojos me hace sentir pequeño, cansado de imaginarte ilusionada al hablar conmigo y que en realidad no se nada, algo que está ahí por que tiene que haber de todo. Usarte de motivación y cuando me doy cuenta de cómo es todo mi inspiración volar tan lejos como la distancia que nos separa, estoy cansado de hacerme el fuerte, no soy fuerte, me jode no hablarte, ni decirte, sentirte, demostrarte lo que es quererte, te crees normal, pero no te imaginas como te ves desde mis ojos, donde la perfección hace siglos que se quedó atrás conforme tus ojos se cruzaron con los míos, seguidos de esa sonrisa tonta que te sale cuando te ríes, tu te ríes por vergüenza, yo por la impotencia de ver que ni mi cuerpo ni mis sentimientos no resisten a lo bonita que eres cuando sonríes. Soy un cobarde disfrazado de valiente, que se siente un extraño entre tanta gente, que sueña con encontrarte, y susurrar a tus oídos que el tiempo y la distancia no son nada, con tal de volver a verte.
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"She's right! She's right! I don't cut in the right spot." My hold tightens on my wrist. The red blood oozes out of my wrist. I slide up and grab my bag and run out of the bathroom. I don't care if people can see the blood I just want to get out. I race for the doors and shove through people. I earn a lot of glares and glances that read "weirdo." I ignore and push. I run to my house and lock myself in my bathroom. I don't bother closing the front door cause I don't care if people come in to kill me. I grab my razor and cut deep cuts into my arm and wrists falling into a pool of my own blood. • • • Evangeline has a great life. Friends? Check! Good grades? Check! Loving family? Check! But what if she has secrets that nobody knows of? What if the only thing she can trust is her secret diary? What if slowly but surly she's dying inside? How can an innocent twelve year old deal with these problems? Will she keep on facing these problem till the day she breaks. Her school burns down forcing her into a different school to meet different people and she has to fit into a different lifestyle as well. Meet Evangeline. Now at 17 years of age in a new high school. Not all girls anymore. No uniform. Meet Drake. Your classic bad-boy. He just moved to Saint Abigail high school. He is assigned partners with the quiet, calm, unnoticed Evangeline. As time progresses he finds that she isn't as happy on the inside as she is on the outside. Can he save her? Or is it too late? • • • Some rude language. Depression and cutting. Don't say I didn't warn you. Okay, I wrote this at the start of this year (may 2016) and I had very poor writing skills. This book hasn't been edited and the whole idea is cliche so I wouldn't recommend you read it but I'm not stopping you, either. Read at your own risk. • • • Copyright © 2017 by -moonlust. All rights reserved.

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