DaniNole

Her nails scale the familiar, vulnerable sheathing, that encases the electrical fire of orders never to be refused. Sky blue coverings cry runnels of red, dripping with loathing; tinged with hope; longing for silence; wishing for an eternity only to consort with bliss. Layer after layer her daggers sink, lusting to tear through cobweb tissues and connective strings of red meat which harbor the offending organ. It whispers a steady kick beat, to monumentally speak of how it despises her weakness. Her lips cry out with anguish and disgust for submitting to pain not external, but what corrupts the inner workings of her sou

There lives a girl in downtown Maine. She finds it quite morbid and lame. So without much ado, she bought her boobs new, and the town rose straight to it's fame.

Falling. Falling so fast and so hard, that when you hit bottom you expect yourself to shatter into a quarter of a billion pieces. You know, part of your leg over there and a few of your toes down here. Like a horror movie, but the kind you can't stand to watch so you cover your eyes instead. You know what's going to happen, but you can't bear to look. It'll give you nightmares. So you're falling. Still. Falling so far and so long you're having a seizure of memories, but it's not a choice. You have to remember. You're going to fail, don't you see? In a life competition against the brilliant and motivated, you're more than lacking. You're hand

When the faint ticking sound of a hallway clock makes childhood memories flood back like a dam has just collapsed, then you know you're too predictable. You're the cliché empathetic character with a slight psychological mishap who everyone falls in love with in those movies where a cripple crosses the finish line last, but still happens to get the most attention. You're the kind who sits in a room teary-eyed due to allergies, but because the light hits you at a certain angle while dramatic music is playing off the television in the background, your friend is going to start bawling. You've got that sensitive personality, and you're sur

Those eyes that contained such pain stared blankly at the bullet placed gently upon the flesh of her palm, and in return it spoke to her with silent articulations only she could interpret. If you die, what's the point? If you leave, they'll care for a few years, but what's that to a dead man? You have a choice, what would it hurt to remove yourself from your own reality? What would it matter if this is only in your mind? Who is to say this is but a world catering to your every need? She did nothing but clasp her fingers, tainted with the impurities of society, of civilization in general, to the beginning of her wrist. A choice she had, a ch

You can go ahead and believe that everything you ever achieved will get you somewhere in the future. But you're just being naive, not admitting we misconceive what's really there. Go ahead and flash your degrees as you try to get ahead and seize a new opportunity. Because no one guarantees a right to a successful life where day after day, strife after strife, you have nothing but a loaf of bread to butter with that butter knife. You could have given your all, but the set backs were so gradual, that you were convinced you had a chance. Until you were put into this trance where at first glance, an education seemed to be enou

Love me. Hate me. Loathe me. Sedate me. Careful, my life might shatter. Watch the pressure, control your laughter. Equalize the balance, repair the situation. Create damage control. To understand, that's my basis. Havoc and chaos appease my daily appetite. Be it war or a murder, Mr. President, it's my right to love it and worship it. Follow it 'till death. To make money off of it while the world's a fucking mess.