Painting With Bloody Emotions

Oh how Lovely! My walls are red once again thanks to your brains being sprayed all over again. Oh well. What can we do? Reality is a horrid place I hate to visit, where dreams are dead, and the ones who you think love you most don't give a damn about you. Where what you want is as close as possible and yet the farthest thing from ever being yours. I can't fucking stand reality. Imagination is a better place. Where murder is deserved by those I see fit. Where all anger can just be relieved all with torture. For example there is no greater joy than taking that razor and instead of hurting myself, pressing it into his eye over and over and over! Oh, the audacity! I could even use this knife as my paintbrush if I wanted, and his body my everlasting canvas, carving things left and right. Ooooh! Yay, I drew the horizon. Now let's make a tree, cut here and here don't forget to dig in really deep. "Stop this you monster!
Oh, I'm sorry sir does that hurt? You should have considered this before you hurt the wrong person! Pathetic, dying on the floor begging for life, where was this part of you when I was begging?! Huh! Answer me that!
"I'm Sorry..."
Fuck your sorry! You should've said that back when it meant something. Now back to drawing, I need to make one final mark, I think this piece of art just needs this knife directly into your skull! DIE! *Stab* DIE! *Stab*  Finally!  Geez I've been waiting for my chance to kill that useless fuck. Wasn't that so much fun Making the room all nice and bloody creating a painting. AHHH that felt amazing! See what imagination can do?

Forgotten

♪ I... hurt my...self today. To see if I still feel.... I.... focus on the pain.... the only thing that's real. I cut a hole... The old familiar sting... Everyone I know, goes away.... in the end. ♪

Waiting will be the death of me. Never giving up on someone for so long scars the soul too much. But it's okay. It won't matter. My existence doesn't seem to make any vast differences. Everyone could still live on. The world will rotate and time will pass regardless of if I breathe. That'd be one less person for the world to support. But I guess I can't leave this world just yet. I still have a lot of time to waste, trying to counteract the inevitable out of my own greed. Although greed isn't always bad. Everyone wants something they don't have. Just depends on what or who that is that makes greed good or evil. My eyes seem to grow colder every time I look into the mirror. Wrists get redder with every blink. Razor red to be exact. I don't exist. I can't. This can't be real, I can't be real. I have no effect on anything or anyone no matter what I do.
I guess this is where I dissappear.

Nightmare

A nightmare is not merely  something you can only have. It is an essence and being. More like something you are than an occurrence.  Nightmares take over.
Suddenly the boy is in the school hallway he sees her with someone that isn't him. He can tell they are too friendly. He then proceeds to breakdown, cry, scream as loud and as quiet all at once. Then he stops. His mind is empty but his hand is not. It holds a knife. He looks up, the knife is no longer in hand but in front of him stuck in that smug asshole's forehead. He blinks. The guy is gone but now she is there tied in darkness. He ponders about the fact of why it was that guy and not him, either way he's dead now so it's not like it matters. He sits and stared at her as she cries and tries to apologize for hurting the boy. It was too late. He juggles the knife in his hands taunting her. She begs him to stop, but he simply runs the knife across his chest writing LATE in cursive. The knife is now pressed against her chin. "Oh what a shame a face so pretty can no longer exist, perhaps if it had been mine first it may have lasted a bit longer" he exclaims. He raises the knife as high as possible and slams it into the table cutting her hair in the process. "Oh sorry did i scare you?! I just can't bring myself to torture something so beautiful. That is.... with a knife anyway." He pulls out a classic revolver.  Puts it right against her skull, "Any last words dear?" She does nothing but continues to sob. "Since you waste your time crying I'll share MY last words with you instead, You are so lucky that I'm in love with you." He pulls the trigger, the bullet goes through his head killing him. She is left there in the dark alone wondering why he went through all that trouble to kill himself and not her. If the boy were to kill her he would be lonelier than he was before. Love is one of the worst nightmares to have.

Resurrect the Remains

"Wakey, wakey bud." Huh? Oh yeah, this place again. I've managed to wake up here again without any new scars, that's a first. I still have.... my smile from earlier. Wow, does she do a good job of making me happy. She doesn't even try. It's those eyes I swear. I can't help but feel like I miss her at the same time. This is very odd, it's not like, don't interact and yet, i can still find myself missing her.
What's this? Oh an old memory. Wait where am I? I'm surrounded by all my favorite memories. The lock on the door... it's shattered. I walk along the room one by one picking up memory after memory, thought after thought. Every homicidal rampage, every fantasy with her that were just from dreams (Which of course was the biggest section), and lastly I came to a box Labeled "Vampire". it was the smallest of the boxes and seemed light. I have no recollection to what this even pertains to. I then open the box to find it empty. Barren and dry. There seems to be ash along the box as if a memory used to be there, but it all got burned up in negativity. Perhaps it was cut during the void? I thought. Then i remembered that I was the only thing ever cut in the void.

New Beginnings & Burning Scars

Wha- where am I? This place it's different. I feel different. I can smile... a real smile.... wow. Haven't seen one of these in forever. At least my own anyway. Happiness. I can see you've returned, now why is that? "Well you see it's because of her, the one with the unique eyes" My "sister"? "Yes, if you wish to call her that. She seems to bring out the best in you. Remind you that you aren't so simply forgotten. As an emotion I am baffled by how happy she makes you." It's because she's my bestfriend. She is everything to me. "I see. I am also here because you have finally left that putrid thing you called a relationship" Yeah, i finally did huh. I guess she was the thing keeping you away all along. "Yes, indeed she was. Your sister kept you sane this whole time. It's not like you ever were though. Anyway i shall be on my away allowing you to enjoy your new life. Farewe-- WAIT! What the hell is on your shoulder?!" It's just a scar don't worry. "Too late buddy. Is that scar an 'A' shape?" Yes it is. "Now what does it stands for?" Take a guess I say with a smirk. "Of course that's what it stands for. Do it again and I'll punch you in the throat got it?" Yeah Yeah I got it. "You better. Now here's some tape you won't be broken forever." *Happiness vanishes*

Words

I've noticed a slight return of happiness but only during certain times. I talk with her for hours about the most random things, i start to laugh again. I start to truly smile. Then she goes to sleep. Then everything is gone again. I trick myself into being happy by pretending he’s not there. That she isn’t his. I’m generally happier around her. They tell me “Do something that makes you happy.” But that never works for long, she is what makes me happy. Then there are those who can’t understand me at all with words like “What’s the Matter? You never had her?” When that is the problem! I can’t help it she’s just stupid pretty and I’m pretty stupid. Why does this always happen to me?  Then there are those who try to make her the bad one with words like “Well, she’s a bitch cause she doesn't like you back, find another” When i can’t agree with that at all. This is my entire fault I am the one who falls for her over and over every single time when she doesn't even try. I’m the one who feels dead every time i try to live without her. I know what’s best for me i do. But i want her instead, I’ll just keep on wasting my time. In all reality it most likely pointless and I’ll spend my whole life chasing her. Every time i get close she’ll probably keep walking with someone else, regardless how far my hand is stretched out begging her to stay. There isn't much i can do either, I’m just stuck like this watching and waiting. I guess she’s happy without me.

Broken Promises

I promised not to. I’m sorry I did. I couldn't handle it. I sat there doing my homework trying not to cry onto my laptop. I got to print it. The printer breaks. My mom yells at me like i broke it. She tells me that I need a nap. To quit being stressed over my girlfriend. She was wrong. There was so much more wrong with me. Completely different than what she thinks. She continues to tell me how I’ll go to bed oblivious to me slowly tracing my scars with my finger as she talks. She won’t stop so i lose it. I scream at her how there is so much more going on in my head than she knows. I end up tell her the surface of how i can’t have the one thing I want so much more than anything and how it feels like it’s killing me. When it literally is. I runaway to my room and break into tears after thinking about it for that long. I keep crying and crying. My shirt is soaked now I can’t do this. Why do I love her so much that I react like this Why?! I’m sorry, I have to break the promise. I pick up the razor, “I’m sorry *Slash* I’m sorry *Slash* I’m sorry *cut* I’m sorry…

Empty Happiness

“I feel like putting arsenic in my coffee” I say to myself. Knowing that just one sip it’d all be over. Sadly I have none. I sit there in trembling from my own thoughts. I rock back and forth uncontrollably I’ve lost the ability to answer a question. “How are you?” they ask, All I do is mutter incoherent babble. “Fine. Fine. Fine. Fine,” All I’ve been able to say over and over again like a damaged record.  Shattered is a better description of how I feel. Over and over he tells me “It’ll be okay man. I was in your spot two years ago, I understand how you feel. You just need time” No I don’t he has no clue how I feel. Goddamnit all how i wish i had that poison.

I play my music louder and louder into my own head in hopes that it blocks out my own thoughts but no matter how loud, it’s maxed out now, it doesn’t work. I decide to visit reality. All the pain rushes back. Suddenly I see blood. I don’t remember why I’m bleeding, but I don’t mind. It’s almost comforting. I just sit there and stare at the red blot slowly creating trails of paint down my skin. It draws a word “Love” oh the irony. It stops. I admit I’m insane. Over and Over “Insane. Insane. Insane….” I lay awake glaring into the blackness of my room i can see myself dying inside. Happiness starting to become a rare virtue nearly extinct. He’s almost gone now, the happy me. I reach out and grab his ankle. I beg him to stay. He mouths the words “You’re a Monster now” and vanishes. Not void of emotion now because i can still cry and find my jar of fake smiles. He only ever comes back to me around her. I guess happiness just likes fucking with me that bastard. At least he was around enough that i can pretend he’s there for the sake of others.

Disappear

It’s all I want. To be nonexistent. To not feel this pain. Why do I have to love her, why?! I want to run away. I need to hide. I want to cry forever. It feels like I need to die. I can’t do this. I Can’t. She’s all I think about now. I can’t form a sentence. I’m choking on the tears i can’t cry. Love is a curse I swear. It gives you hope then rips it away. It makes it so you can’t choose. It is designed so that you have to sit there and watch her like you’re fucking window shopping and just as you earn the money it’s already gone. I just want to be washed away.  I haven’t been able to speak a proper sentence in hours. I feel like I’m dying. I wish i was. I wouldn't even need much to feel content. If I could be hers just for an hour I’d be happy. I hate admitting that i want things. What am I talking about...? I’m not worth it. Not worth the time. Not worth caring about. I feel like nothing now. I've drowned in my sorrows for could this time. I’m in too deep. Not worth saving. I can’t do this. I don’t even understand myself so how can anyone else? “It gets better” You’ll be fine”. Bullshit no I won’t. It only seems to get worse. And for that it is no one other than myself.

Somehow i feel that an actual stab in the heart may in fact hurt less.

The Void

Its 2 A.M, your insomnia is at its best at keeping you up. Along with a million voices telling how you've managed to fuck up every last aspect of the current hell you call life. That is all void is. Just nothing. No emotion. No words. Nothing. Which ends up being insanity. You lay there curled up in tears trying to escape your own head. Praying to the nothing that will only bring a distraction with false hope. Then you turn, look at your phone, perfect reminder of how alone you are. Then you look at your arm, count up all ten scars and the stories they hold, every break up, every argument, every time you thought you weren't good enough. You start to cry more you can’t take this. You glare at the pencil sharpener on your desk. You unscrew it and remove the razor. You are drenched in tears and the only noise you can make is “I’m sorry” over and over. Doesn’t make a difference either way and you know it. You press the razor to your skin, and swipe left. Then right. Then diagonally and down.  Nothing bleeds you think you’re fine. It does hurt but somehow the adrenaline helps. So you sleep. That is what the void does. It is nothing more than the monster in your head that consumes you. As you try to hide from the so called monsters under your bed.

The void is also is a savior in a way. Making sure all your long sleeves are clean to wear to school. Making sure to keep a death grip on that sleeve so it never rides up to show the bloody pain underneath. It provides you with the constant supply of fake smiles needed. It also gives us humans the ability to say a million stories about “You” or “Someone” When in all actuality we talk of no one else’s experiences or feelings as our own. Much like I've done here. Kind of a crazy Idea isn’t it?