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written by .purity.11:32 PM 2/16/05| Cold dead steel strokes it's way smoothly across pale skin, creating little trails of crimson liquid as the weilder meets an angry thought. She lies silent, with no other way to cope.. or live. it brings quite a strange sensation to her attention, the freezing tip of the tool sinking into her warm flesh seemed almost refreshing to the constant soft touch and numbness she had grown so accustomed to. the only light into this damp and gloomy chamber is that of the moon, seeping in thin cracks through the curtains, adding such an eerie effect to it all. though this is not uncomfortable. it is good to feel that something has a place. her place is here, and she must belong. as her mind travels to ponder such thoughts, she realises she had been distracted, and returns to concentrate on the situation, much to her dissapointment, she is torn away from the luxury of the day dream, and she drags herself back into the reality, her lack of self-control kicking and screaming all the way. She casts the blade into the corner with a great disgust for what she has done. Scraping along the dusty floorboards, she pulls herself over to the other side of the room, almost in fear of the utensil. she spots something interesting-different, at least. a broken shard of mirror. she holds is to her face, and felt a sudden burst of energy and sense of self-loathing clentch it in such a way it cut into her fingers-it never ends. |
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i don't know.....
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