And my subtle head hurts with infatuation of being on earth unlike me. Only paying attention to those who deny my craft and spring just to hurt me in any way possible. Why is it that my face is anchored down when I speak to you about my.. work. Why is it you try to slow me down and get me to believe that your not and the best for me. Why have you made me uncomfortable in my own home, and skin. It's amazing. amazing, amazing. Although, my mind doesn't let me play the victim anymore and my estranged heart doesn't sparkle at your words interest, of the moment. I don't believe what you say to me. I'm this, i'm that. Your gonna RUIN my life, so whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat. Your miserable, your miserable being yourself. You fucked up my life and expect me to be your puppet slave. For what reason, because you like me? Let alone, love me? I don't think so. If this is love, then this is what the world feels like on the inside. Maze's, the big maze i'm currently trying to find my way out of daily.
rape me, rape me more why dontcha. Get a good fuck. It's only my want if I continue to accept the demonic torture you call your life, forced to mine. Our paths may have meant to have crossed and God may have wrote this book already, but if not. If i'm out, I disrupt the story, no follow up, no lead, no me, no pain, no struggle, no heartbreak, no games, just.... Life
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