STORIES

                                       A HEART THAT FOREVER HARDENS

Isn't it a shame that we are al lterrorized and flattened by trivialites, and that we are eaten

up by nothing. The fact you feel so much that it becomes too hard for you to feel anything

at all??? I bet you don't know about this heart that alway shardens,this temper that is forever

consumed inside and you've never felt a touch that always hurts .Sorry if i just described

you. I Am numb to a point that im never even afraid of death to a point i call the Angel of 

death buddy. When the devil whispers to you i am coming and all you can say to him is bring 

pizza pliiiiiz.

I want to go, not like suicide but dissapear coz all i ever felt is alexithymia. I am the kid

whose dead inside but you all see me as most alive person. I have a face like an angel but 

inside my heart is as black as a broken moviescreen, it is dark in this little heart of mine, but

 im not evil im slightly bent and very twisted, due to this i have seen beauty in people who

were called ugly and i have seen devil in the most angelic faces. kindly don't confuse that 

with me i am both. I am not crazy i just fake my reality to create humour. i'm not like an  

ordinary world i have my madness i live in another dimension the one that has no soul.     

                

Sometimes it's your blackwings that make you beautiful and sometimes you only wanna

dance with someone just to bring your demons to your knees, when all you wanna hear about

is all the terrible things that he or she did. Don't let go, don't, at times bleeding hands are

more colorful than empty ones.Has it  ever occured to you that maybe,just maybe,evil

keeps you young???

We are a new breed rising, with fire in our eyes we dont fea ranything beacause we've

already died inside,we are the sons and daugters of kings who forgot ou rnames,we are the

ones whose bones are stained with sin, scorched from fires, broken by betrayals, cold in

loneliness and still keep on fighting, we are emperrors of our own dark worlds, the victories

of our 2:00 AMs insomnia thoughts, what we have survived might kill them.

I don't have a favourite season, i have favourite feeling, It's windows down, silent backroads

with dirty bare feet feeling. It's when i can walk straight outside without pausing to fishout

a jacket, It's the curtains dancing around my room because of the coolbreeze that pushes

against it's fabric, it is the sunsets. The sound of lawn mowers, of falling leaves, and rain

against the window. Pockets of shade and walks along gravel road. I told you i have weird

favourite feelings.

So i am a hoarder not of things but of memories and stories. I wrap every memory that i have

like a blanket as dark as it is or as vivid as it may occur, i intertwine all these around my rib

cage. I paint every stolen moment at the back of my hand so i can learn never to forget them

.I let the words flow through my bloodstream until i am nothing but a collection of moments,

a collection of stories, and a collection of lives and nightmares that i have not yet lived.                  

I wanna be someone's favourite playback.

Now i live for the little things in life, i live for the 5am sunrises and 5pm sunsets where i

always see colors in the sky that don't usually belong. I live for road trips, bike rides with

music in my ears and wind in my hair and dark souls that make me stronger by day.