Being Bipolar
- Reads 331
- Votes 18
- Parts 1
Anger. So harsh, uncontrollable. Fierce, full powering. It burns so deep, you can't get rid of it. Can't control it. There's no cure. The med's don't work. Escape.
The sound, so sweet. How? Where?
There's no light. Just dark. Always.
This is my story.
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" Revenge is sweeter than honey " A revenge story... A girl sat , in the chair looking at the elderly man she called 'father' . Who was bleeding and crying , each of his crying widening the sick grin on her face. The whimpers of the so called "Strong man" was a pleasure coursing and ramming through her body. His each tears soothing the burning ember in her heart. Her eyes void of anything humane , any humanity missing from her body. They say heart is a place where a human is supposed to store love and everyone has it , but when she looks at the broken pieces of her heart she can't even find the bits and pieces of love. There is nothing in her , no emotion , no love nothing. Absolute replica of a empty shell. " The malevolence was shining in her eyes , dancing like a drunk teenager. the anger and hatred clouding her iris , her eyes , if read properly , were an open book. " The absolute coldness , the hatred was deep inside her heart , her anger was burning , burning away her own soul and turning it into ashes. For , Crying is a luxury , she could never afford.
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