#gothic goth

[froggychan]

[redvampirerose]

By  snatchedbylulubelles (on Instagram)

[nekollars]

these two chokers are for sale here:     FIRST      SECOND

[cosmic-crow444]

Libra Gothic

Pain is beauty, and scars bleed rose petals. After enough heartache, you begin to look like a garden.

You see little girls do make overs on one another during recess. Their red lipstick is made from the blood of boys who didn’t know how to love.

You calculate every piece of glamour worn. Lipstick to lure in people like a Siren, eye shadow to pentretrate souls, and nail polish to stab their heart and devour it.

When people called you a man eater, they didn’t mean it literally. But you did.

Love is love, no matter man or woman, monster or human. The best romance of your life was a vampire.

You don’t discriminate who you devour. You love hearts of all types, a fine consumer of raw love. Undercooked always preserves the most flavor.

You’re not a monster, just a hollow creature looking for someone to compliment yourself. You’re missing a heart, and you need someone to fill it.

The problem is, you know how to love everyone but no one quite knows how to love you. They love you for your beauty, but not for your beast. They love a portion of you, an ideal. Yet, you’re very much real with sharp edges and gapping wounds.

When they notice you’re sharp teeth they run. It’s your duty to devour them before your secret gets out. You’ve learned to find beauty in it, forge pleasure from it. This life is meant to be enjoyed.

You’re always polite during meal time. No elbows on the table, no spilt blood on the dining cloth.

No one knows it’s you until you attack. It’s always calculated to the perfect crime. Every splatter of blood is like an abstract painting.

No one suspects it’s you, the scales of Justice are tipped in your favor. If they ever did, they wouldn’t be alive long enough to prove it.

You were tired of loving, loving, loving, and never being loved back. But the roses growing inbetween your ribs keep you company.

You look inside the garden to find, you’re indeed not heartless like so many claimed. Your heart is shattered. It is glued together and falling apart, but it is there.

All you ever wanted to do was make the world a more a beautiful place, no matter the agony or heartache.

[nekollars]

time for something gothic :)

for sale here:     HAIR BOW         CHOKER

(We can also switch choker charm to pentacle, it you will want to ;)

[nekollars]

for sale HERE

[cosmic-crow444]

Scorpio Gothic

There is a heart hidden in ice. It beats only when the ice thaws.

This is your heart, well gaurded. It is shrouded in darkness, stowed away in the freezer. It is beside the frozen waffles, and behind the goat’s head.

The only person allowed in the freezer is yourself. You always know when someone’s near, you smell their fear.

Truth be told, it’s your fear reeking throughout the dwelling. You’re scared anyone will noticed what you’re hiding.

The monsters sleep in the closets and under your bed. You hear them slither and grumble at night. Sometimes they sing lullabies in strange tongues.

If you’re tired of fighting your personal monsters, consider befriending them.

One of them has an odd obsession with The Beetles and the other loves to bake. Of course every time they touch the radio it turns to static, or try to cook slime gets inside the batter. Despite these minor flaws, they’re still nicer than most people you know.

After befriending them, your heart starts to beat more often. It is erratic, it is strange, but it is warm. And oddly gooey.

They tell you bedtime stories, stories their Mama’s softly screamed before bed.

You begin to wonder, who the real monsters are.