I have nothing left but the desire to come back from the graveyard where all the forgotten lay..all of those you ignore and regret ever meeting and are dead to you, in the cemetery.
I do not want to be one of those who are worthless to your eyes or you don't need anymore. Useless they've become to you...useless we've become. And all of those days we served you well and gave you what you wanted, told you what you longed to hear, and did not complain when we were broken more than once. Some of them failed to serve you because they held onto this thing called "pride". Fools they were, they didn't have you in their lives. They preferred to abandon you. But we didn't, O' Shinyeyes, we served you well until you grew tiresome of our unreasonable loyalty.
No, I refuse to stay like this.
Can't you see? I did not come into your life to be lied to.
You did the same to all of them, but you refuse to accept your wrong doings.
Now that you've left me to die, you still haunt my dreams, my thoughts, my everything.
Leave me! Go away!
I've had enough. I don't want to be this way..like the others...thought I'm turning into one.....one of the walking dead. My eyes would show it all if I didn't hide it, the fact that I've been broken again like always. Because I'm not good enough.
I just sit there crying like a fool, is this what you wanted? Is this what you thought of to torture me...? If so then you've done well.
I scar my arms ever so freely now...I couldn't even believe it myself, I didn't even flinch. After all, it doesn't hurt as much as loosing you...for now.
Just you wait, I will not fall down and be buried six feet underground because of you.
Even if I refuse to let you go. Even if I refuse to let my feelings go, my attraction towards you is so great and comforting.
I don't know your reasons, I refuse to believe you're cruel.
I refuse a lot of things... And I deny my true feelings to everyone.
I told you you couldn't possibly hurt me...but I lied to keep you safe, and now it hurts like stepping on broken class or walking over fire barefoot. Yet what burns is my heart, not my feet. And what is cutting is a blade and not broken glass.
My heart is turning black,
My arms crimson red,
The color in my eyes will fade away,
And hatred...hatred will grow in my mind and will flow in my veins.
I hate you...but
I love you.
I will wait until the day that you come back..even if it is for a moment...
And THEN will I be done...
There's no promise.
-Dustfinger