...............L-0-V-3.............

..... a heart is just an organ that pumps blood, how is it that it is said to break? how is it that it is said to feel so much never ending pain? what does all that mean? Maybe it is a figment of our imagination. Maybe it doesn't really feel, our minds are what feel, rather send impulses that make us believe that we are feeling when in reality we are just numb........

Well at least that would be the easiest explanation to everything....

But i know better. I know that when you let someone touch or graze that inner sanctum that we all call a heart, we are but asking for trouble we do not require... I know that when we ask to be loved, we are only searching for unrequited love. We are searching for a fantasy that cannot be achieved in reality......

I used to be a true believer of love, love that would come and knock down my door, bang me so hard in the head and never leave... guess thats why its called a dream, they can barely survive an hour in reality....

Sometimes i hate how i can't hate, I hate how i can't stop loving... its as though i am superhuman, my heart cannot handle hate!!!!!....

It kills me to see the tears and the fear, it tortures me the way smiles are just but fixated plastic on faces, how hugs no longer seem full of trust....

I just want to loose the fake smile, I want to have an honest laugh, I want to know what it means to love again, to hold your hand, to Love again......

I want to know What L-O-V-E is........

I don't want to do things  I regret no more, i want change......

I want to run far away from this place and never come back... i want to start over be a new creation in GOD, and person...

I want so many things that reality counters...... so i have to take what is there and live with the fantasy, hoping that one day it will be a reality.....

Cut CUT, CUT, CUT, CUT,

CUT,

BLEED, BLEED, BLEED, BLEED,


BLEED...

..................DI3......die................

We are making a mark!!!

..........R-E-A-L-I-T-Y........

.....Reality is like a joke, its so hard to live through yet so easy to dream about. I don't see how we people can work the systems of reality if they are always playing tricks....

I personally sometimes loath when reality becomes too vivid. When all the smells of sweat, manliness, blood, tears, fear wrap up into one disturbing smell. The sounds of grunts, the sound of deep breaths, screaming and silent sobs. The touch of callused and weather beaten hands all over the body that was supposed to be beautiful... I hate the sight of reality sometimes....

People always say, "there's a light at the end of the tunnel." Maybe that light only occurs when your not alive. when everything becomes a symphony of silence, when you cannot see, feel, hear, touch actual reality.....

When  everything seems to be going wrong in this reality, I find solace in dreams. Dreams that cannot be touched by anyone except my Father above, dreams that i can shield from being tarnished by violence, hate........and so much more......

The way you can spin a thread from utter nothingness, to tangible something-ness..... In dreams i can escape from the pain, from the people who constantly tear me apart, from the one who breaks me...... Dreams let me not think much.....

But as the days move forward, I seem to have lost the ability to dream. I lay awake at night, tossing and turning remembering visions from a dark past once well hidden threatening to rise to the surface.... I think about the struggle, about how you come to this room more often than before and take more of what you want. I have to endure your taking, my silent screams, my inert tears, my unsaid words, your curses, my brokenness, your torture, my injustice...... I want to hate, to feel that hate in reality, but all i get is numbness. All I have is a deep well of nothingness........

So i revert back to reality, I decide to ensure that I am alive...its the only way to know that I am H-U-M-A-N.....

Crimson,

Scarlet,

Red,

Poison,

Pills,

Cut, cut, cut, cut, cut,

Bleeding tears of sanity.........

Bleeding vessel in a shattered piece,

                     me,

..................THE bROk3N cORpS3...........

We are making a mark!!!