Eight
- Reads 60
- Votes 12
- Parts 3
I felt my sorrow erupt inside of me coursing through my veins and aiming for my heart to cause even more damage. I had always been teetering on the edge of complete darkness but this one simple act had caused me to plummet into a pit of my own despair. I wanted more than anything to feel warmth in return from his hand. To feel the life that was once so prominent in him but all I received in return was his cold lifeless touch. It was then as if the coldness from his fingertips had spread through to my heart.
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i drew a butterfly on my wrist, in hopes that this feeling would no longer persist, but things got bad and i started to cry, so the butterfly on my wrist had to die. once again i tried to set myself free, but it seems my thoughts have stolen the key, so this butterfly lived a short life, killed with fear, and a very sharp knife. -b.g [lower case intended.]
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