asylum_online | *Too angry for words*

The Deceiver

You had someone and not I.
You wanted me anyway, or so I thought.
I could tell by your eyes, look, your touch.
You made me fall into the trap, the cycle, the burn.
And yet now, when I have allowed for you to take over.
You claim to love, Not I, but her.

Kill Me Slowly

I lay, awaiting for him to come and bestow his gift upon me.

His gift is death, and I recieve it with a kiss.

I graciously thank him with my blood as he opens me up and tears through my worthless human canvas.

But oh what a story has been told with this canvus.

My paint brush is sharp and deadly and with it I create a picture used with red paint.

It screams a story of pain, betrayal, and above all love.