I am sorry for not telling you the truth. Not that I have said lies but you have most definetly assumed the worst of me. I'm sorry for letting you believe you were anything to me... I work alone in this life. For me to admit you meaning something to me at one point I'd only be half right. I won't call or send you an email, I simply can't stand talking to you anymore. You are fooled easily but I can not apoligize for that. That is your fault, not mine. Be strong and a little less trusting next time.
You're gone now. My long tormenting days are at an end but are far from quiet. I can still hear the loud shouts and the cry ever so often. Not even the keen senses can drown them out. If you don't understand all I'm trying to say is I'd rather hurt you than have you hurt me... I don't want to feel the curse which I have given to you. I am not guilty and I really don't care. Did you think you were going to break me?... right... I wish someone could
xxXxx
In the Headline
- Spirit of the Apocalypse
- Is temptation as wary as we believe it to be? or are we just weak? A constant reminder of the left over glitter and blue eyemake up. I walk down the unlit streets at midnight, numb to paranoia, in heels and my skinny's. I get home and lie on my cold bed to dream of monsters and heaven in a unison style. I'm like a peppermint eaten away with nicotine stains in my eyes. Clean up your mess. . . its getting out of control
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