...............I don't even.........just........What Is This?......just read it.
Posted March 6th, 2013 by BearWithAStrawberry
in the limelight, filming episode 800 of something that will be premiered on ABC, FOX, and all the news stations. Watch it! (naw, but I'm working towards it!! keepy it up!) Imma win an Oscar! Remember me when I'm famous! :D /le cheesy star smile/ WHUUUUTTTT
A/N: coughcoughcough no message here cough
Unedited. Feast on the hideousness.
Please don’t try to comfort me.
That one, simple, plain word slices like a knife down your throat.
I like pain.
I feels like a drop of caramel, slowly melting into my body.
I like pain best in the silence of night, when my only witnesses are blood and the moon.
I relish a bittersweet dizzy feel.
I love the cold that tingles up my spine.
I like the pain that shoots through my body.
No pity, no dirty looks, no mirrors…..
That’s the way I like it.
No heat, no shorts, no sun…..delightful.
No sneers, no snickers, no therapists….
wouldn’t that be nice?
Pain, darkness, hesitation….isn’t that perfect?
But the question is why.
Do there have to be imperfections?
Why do there have to be butterflies on our arms?
Are there slammed doors, drawn curtains and shattered glass?
Are there bruises and scratches.
Because there is pain. There are tears, and there are razor-sharp objects. Because we have feelings, because we aren’t made of marble. Because.
Pain makes us miserable.
The feel enlightens my very soul. Like a fresh tub of ice-cream on a hot day, sitting next to tortured others.
A/N 2: this is not a poem. the formatting just happens to be like this.
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