I fell in love with people I shouldn't have.
They're fucking magic.
And hers is broken, twisted, in a moment I missed it...
I sit contemplating fire and ice, my strange desires and slow burning fires under the surface.
Wondering of what I can now write here.
Is it really still mine? This blog, frozen in time.
I gave it too her...
He suggested that I move to a new spot,and start over. I thought about it. It would be giving up the last remnants of home that I have dragged with me through this fucking hell-hole of a place we now live.
So I'm torn...I don't want to give this up. Yet the things that belong here, the stories that this place was created for, I have them...And what happens when she reads them?
So maybe just theory and cryptic poetry...Or maybe I say fuck it, she went out of her way to make this hurt as much as she could, so if she feels compelled to read and doing so is like grinding the nail in a little deeper, then it's her own damn bad...
The way she left, the efforts she made, to provoke him into breaking me and destroying himself...She wanted to see me left in pieces...She did everything she was asked not to...Maybe I'll never know why, maybe I'll always wonder inside...Why she wanted to know that I cried as she lied.
|Maybe I'll be stardust, maybe just rust...|
I come here to write, the dreams the moments, the experiences, the feelings...And I pause. Because I know that she will read. Me.
But I'll not be responsible for her insecurities. She didn't believe, didn't listen, didn't take heed; the whole reason she was given this link in the first place. So I think that here I will continue to spill my escapades, all my little pieces of Hades. Pieces of me.