FicWad

Pathetic butterfly wounds, said to be done for attention.
For the sake of the citizens, close the gate!
I hate the sound of my voice, quite and scared.
Sprinkled and cherry- topped lies she told, plug your ears silly child.
When the sirens sound, take down the door.
Flicker the lights, fight like warriors, don't fall with the enemy.
Never let those precious teardrops hit the ground, this is the land where the grass doesn't grow.
Inhale the toxins from the chemicals in the air, tell all of your bubblegum lies, put on a fake smile you can't deny.
Little whimpers, pleas for help.
Screams from the wounds that you caused on yourself.
Fear the living, love the dead.
Crave the pain.
Love the way your ribs are defined, your hips jut out.
Emptiness and loneliness.
The feeling of being low, down in the dumps.
I guess this is the end, be prepared for the worst in the morning.
Sadness will come, tears of joy will fall.
But if you read my thoughts, maybe you'd understand.

Whatever. I don't know.
This is the quote I guess I kind of based this off of, 'Your write so beautifully, your mind must be a terrible place.' So yeah.