weaklings don’t deserve any of the good graces bestowed
on them by clueless girls. The male species has hurt
me way too many times, and I’m not letting it happen
again. I’ll hurt them before they even touch me or dare
speak those sickening phrases they use on others. Strong
people like me can’t believe their words. I do thank them
for ringing the bells of reality to a girl who believed in
rubbish. Those males taught me to be realistic so I won’t
fall again.
To be honest, I’m scared of them. They
taught me to fear them. It’s fear that helps me hate them
and be realistic in a world where happy endings don’t
exist. I’ll never be able to rely on any of them because if
I do, I’ll be broken once more, and I’m not letting that
happen.
I could never love anyone, even if I didn’t
hate him, because I get nervous around guys. I feel like
something is nibbling my heart, slowly eating my soul.
The memories will always stay imprinted in my soul,
leaving a mark unable to be erased. This mark is part of
me so I can’t deny it, either.
This mark carved within me started with two
sets of eyes. The first set of eyes is crimson red. These
eyes contain greed and an untamable hunger, ready to
devour me alive. Just staring at those eyes is enough to
make me shiver and want to scream in terror. One look
is all it takes to trap you in torment. Those same eyes
rip away the innocence of young girls. I could never be
normal because of him. I hate the one with the crimson
eyes.
The guy with the blue eyes stole my heart
and my rationality. The round big eyes look into me
and expose everything I keep deep within my heart. His
child-like actions and childish face are all I seem to notice
about him. He’s always so nice to me it hurts.
To be honest with myself, I don’t know how
to feel about him. He made me feel ways I have never felt
before, and I hate it. Maybe it could be love but I don’t
believe in love. He disappeared from my life, taking my
heart and leaving in its place questions, and many things
I don’t understand.
I think if he hadn’t left maybe things would
be different. I could have forgotten the past. Maybe one
day I’ll be able to move on.
6 Train Volume II: 2013–2014 |
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