

Complexities Of A Dead HeartSuffocation is beautiful.Complexities Of A Dead Heart
It's like a neatly wrapped bow around my neck, cutting off the oxygen to my already dying lungs. This present is myself; dying in front of you.
Choking. Breathless.
Your eyes, your voice. You. Help my unloved, frozen cold heart force one more beat out of it's languished state. It makes the futile attempts of strangulation void. This malignant tumour of a heart is overfilled with joy once more. For that I cannot thank you more.
You are my raison d'étre, so to speak.


I Promised You Violent TearsSo this is it?I Promised You Violent Tears
My senses are blurred, like the edges of wet paper transcripting my life as a story, writing new chapters with every move that I force myself to make.
I cannot see anymore, the gift of sight has passed me by, All I see is black; like a hole, gaping open, ready to consume me, To digest on my wish of death, and the sole purpose to purify, Everything I am, and once was.
So now, I shall cry til my tears become sharp, and violent, and slice deep into my retina; leaving scars upon my eyelids, Then my tears shall become red, dripping from my torn sockets, &nb
--
Held by my own thoughts and fears,
how do I escape live through the years,
Solve all the problems, concure all the beasts,
set myself free, and practice what I preach.
~Lauren~
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