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The flowers wilted. Much like her spirit. She didn't want the companionship of Apathy, but it never seemed to let go of her. It was a far too easy hole to sink. An easy path to follow. Broken memories replayed in songs. She felt more of the giver. And everytime her soul became a little more empty. This is the reason the smoke gives her a release. This is her only real means of coping. This and Drinking. This and falling into a boy that will only lie to her and leave her marks that she has to cover with lies. This and the path of excuses trail on. She's climbing a flight of stairs that won't end. She's living in a Nitemare that won't let her wake. She wants to be happy. She does. But any chance left has vanished. She's a walking, breathing lie. She's just.
 Made27 · Thu Jun 09, 2005 @ 09:50pm · 1 Comments |
