iwillneverfollowyou

When you told me you were leaving, you never said it was going to hurt this much.  I hate the thought of you going away forever.  So I am left here walking, moping around down the street where we grew up on together, looking at my battered shoes long overdue to be replaced. I remember when you moved here when you were still only 3 years of agi, I was 5.  Now I am 18, you are 15, but you have left me for eternity , so I cannot say this statement is true.   You told me I wasn't going to see you anymore, I didn't clue in.  I thought you were just playing another one of your childish games, as you were always immature, I'm immature for not doin

Running away I can feel the steaming breath of this horrible thing chasing me in this immacualate black room with jewels hanging from the walls. I am being hunted for no reason or cause. I keep finding doors to help me escape but the other sides of them just keep deepening my trouble when the floor gets more slippery and more monsters multiply out of thin air. I want to look back but I dare not for I will become entranced by one set of the wicked eyes on the mangled faces stalking me. I see yet another door off in the distance.  It is much larger than the others and it is already opened for me with a great red capret leading to its depths.

Everyone loves Controversey.  Not Controverey happening to them, but Controversey happening to others.  It's sick but it's true.  We love to see others suffer while we are cheerful and happy.  It's almost as if whenever someone else gets hurt mentally we build off of it and feel stronger.  We say we feel sorry for them but thats just something to say in order to feel stronger.  If we don't use this cover up then we get put down and we feel weaker and smaller all over again.

Saying "I Love You" is just an excuse for another heartbreak.  There is no one for everyone and everyone for no one.  Therefore their is no such thing as true love but we still say this arangement of words in order for life to continue on this great polluted ball of waste.  

Taking my last breath of life I'm engulfed with death.  I can feel the life pulsating through my veins.  How nice it would be to have another last breath, and another, but then I would fulfill my purpose.  It's to late now.  EVerythings ddarkening around me.  Blurring abjects turn diagnol, upside down.  Now it's bright.  Everything is Perfectly Deadly.  I need life, my body can't help me this time, i've gone too far.  I wish I wouldn't have done this.  I can't believe my eyes anymore because I don't know whats real and whats not.  No one told me it was supposed to be this way.  Will I succeed? Or will i fail and become nothing but a body and