glevoisier
"God hates fags." "Fags go to hell." I see those signs everywhere these days. I can't even get away from them on the internet.
Tell me, when did the cross become a symbol for hate?
...I must be missing something here.
Strung up above you are those damn Christmas lights we always fought over. Really, all we ever did was fight, which I guess led you to lie like a lump in your own blood puddle now.
You've got to have spine, Father always said to me. Well Daddy, where was your spine the day you walked away from me for good?
It felt as if it would take a century until she got what she deserved for needlessly casting him aside. But he'd keep trying, again and again, until her hysterical screams no longer satisfied him.
Her long blonde hair swished in the wind; that was the last he ever saw of the woman he loved as she boarded the train. There was so much left undone, unsaid, but he'd have to leave it - see if they'd meet again in the next life.
The leather of your purse, your boots, your car seats, all had that scent that twenty-some odd years later send me nostalgic chills of the woman I could barely call my mother.
You wrapped me in your love before you wrapped me in your insanity. I cast you aside after you threatened my life before you committed suicide. My only regret is still wondering, after two years, who was justified in their decisions.
Your hands wrapped around my neck, grasping the life from me as I desperately clawed at them. But eventually, I lost the strength; and you'd never have the courage and I'd never get to tell the courts that the man tried for my murder was innocent.
I think I grabbed your collar to pull you towards me, but I don't know. Passion's grasp was too strong over me to allow me to remember.