Evanesce

Evanesce

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sat, Apr 11, 2015
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Fiction
Mystery
Glee builds up in me as I watch you suffer. Your pitiful little heart, your broken scars, so irresistible. Those pretty cuts on your wrist, those soft hands I once touched, so undeniable. Pain; Agony; Afflictions; Nuisance. I could end it for you, but you wouldn't listen to me, only them. I want them dead, now.
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#618
sadistic
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Cuts.

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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