I question myself every second, cause I am a daughter of hypocrites.
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I question myself every second, cause I am a daughter of hypocrites.
"I usually try to make everything theatrical. Everything sort of a poem flowing on, so that it's easier to digest. The everything in question, is the things that haunt me, things that are too loud. But this time it's like swallowing glass shreds. It's not the first time I've had to do this. It's not the first time I've bled cause of the rough taste. It's killed me before and I've healed. But I was younger, it was less colder around me. This time around, I'm just tired as ever. I want an end to all means."
-madeofvioletdreams's journal
"that never happened"
oh.
I seek affection, yet I am plagued by the affliction that I may never find it in the place I longed as a child and that truly brings tears to my eyes on a random night when I'm supposed to get some damn shut eye.
Google, Wikipedia, Alexa or just someone tell me how to get the indecisiveness out of my head.
Terribly afraid of actually relaxing and enjoying the free time I get, cause what if I jinx my good days streak up, somehow by smiling or being happy way too much.
The halo is broken. It wavered, it tried to stay. I held onto it for a while. But now my hands are paining, it's rusting, it's ruined. It's gone, turned to dust perhaps. I blinked and it was gone.