Beautiful Mess

i wrote this i think in '04.
   
'what a beautiful mess' they say. a broken mind creates for them distractions- like naming all the stars in the sky. the sun may rise for them, but not for me. they keep holding my hand oblivious to the gun in my mouth. 'how could you be so lonely, so hopeless? don't take yourself away from us'. but my heart hurts. my soul is incomplete. i believe in suicide, but i'm too dead to die. with a madness as limitless as the stars in the night- i will create for us new reasons to make cures of our diseases. as nothing can be done to ease this plight- i will continue to pretend if you pretend that you'd cry
juggalove juggalove
31-35, F
Aug 10, 2010