misunderstandingseaofvictims
I want to be in my warm bed, all tucked in like I used to be. The sun pouring on my face on a Saturday morning, happy because I knew I wouldn't have to go to school today. My room isn't a disaster, it's clean because my mom is tired of a messy home. I know she's right in the next room. I'm comforted by the though.
The taste of iron completely takes over my thoughts. Blood. I need it, and I need it now. I don't know where I'm supposed to go to get it, but I know that I need it. I wont kill again. I swore to her I wouldn't. Oh, but God the iron. I miss that taste. It's funny. It's a taste I once thought repulsive. Now I need it. Oh God. I need it.
I suppose I could do it.
But I wont.
I suppose I could stop thinking about it.
But I can't.
I suppose I could leave this place.
But I shan't.
I suppose...why am I living my life supposing?
I suppose it's time to know.
I want to know.
But, I suppose that would be asking too much.
I suppose I'll go.
I'm on the edge. I look down. I see everything. The city, all the lights, cars. I see the humans; happy and innocent. Not so innocent. Look at them. Why do they deserve to be happy? What the fuck am I doing up here? Too late now. I take a step forward. Just. Jump. Just fucking jump.
I wish my hair was long enough for me to have a long fishtail braid going down my entire back. I want to be as skinny as the girls on tumblr, the girls that wear those braids so sexily. I want to be beautiful, like those girls, and I want to be able to have those braids. I want to be sexy too.
I'm convinced that I will forever be alone. I'm scared that I'm the reason no one stays for very long. When I was younger I was convinced that love was all I needed, but what if I can't find love? What if I'm the reason love doesn't exist for me. Yes. I'm convinced it's all my fault.