Wip

wip

hi- Im cringe and i will continue to be so

Going band for band but it’s writing (toxic?) doomed yuri and you’re up against THEM

HOW THE FU DID THIS HAPPEN!!!!! LIKE HOLY SHIT !!!  @nartothelar LIKED one of my posts. I’ve made it, I’ve peaked, everything after this doesn’t matter anymore.

He want upies

Vent art

Lil silli story kinda suicidal and murdery

She screamed, her words fluttered violently out of her head as if there was nothing separating her thoughts from the world. She told everyone about how terrifying her mind can get and how it liked to convince her of things that she knew were wrong but never really cared enough to realize it. There is nothing more horrifying than a woman yelling about murder with fear in her eyes and a smile in her teeth, as the eyes are windows to the soul and the face does what the audience wants. Her yelling continued as she walked them through how he made her so mad and so sad that she just had to kill him! There was no other way to get him out of her life and no other way to get the voices out of her head. Death was the only way. She never expected regret. She never expected how much she could miss the voice of the man that she only connected with hatred. Now the voice was so bent and bruised in her memories it just sounded… wrong. Everything was wrong! She screamed and screamed but nothing could fix the guilt in her eyes and nothing could fix the deep yearning for her gun to be emptied again. It didn’t matter how she felt, death lied in her bones and blood filled her thoughts. She was a killer. The word had slowly stumbled out of her mouth, she didn’t want to accept it. She could accept how she wanted him dead. She could accept how she planned the murder. She could accept how she bought lead bullets so she knew the job would be done. But being a killer. Taking someone's life and just accepting that. Being forced to live in the brain and the body of a murderer for as long as you may live. She couldn’t handle that. There was nothing in this world that would ever make that okay. There was nothing that would ever make her want to live again. She had locked her gun, trying to help her brain stop thing about the same image, the same thing as before. Bullets in his chest, blood covering his once beautiful body, but it wasn’t the man she killed wearing his blood. It was her. With three bullet holes in her chest, blood coating her finest dress with the life of a killer as the only memory anyone will ever have when they think of her. She couldn’t scream anymore. Tears filled her eyes as the barrier between her mind and the people became thicker than the blood of a once loved man. She fell onto the ground trying to speak even as her tears are racing down her face her mind is filled with words and her blood is fueled by death and nothing will keep her from thinking that she is a monster. Nobody disagrees. Even as she is filled with sadness and regret she is still a killer and that is all she will ever be. She has grown to fear her own hands and she has grown to accept that her thoughts will never leave her. Trapped in a cell of her own design, walls covered in the tears of a killer and the blood of a human. Mind filled with the differences betwixt the two beings. How a killer will cry and a human will bleed. And she will be stuck with both roles. Slashing her skin hoping that one day she will be able to feel the pain that he did. Hoping that one day it will be enough to pay for his mothers sorrows. Praying that if she died they would celebrate, saying that it would only take a matter of time. She cried each day and night hoping that someone would see how she wasn’t a monster. Maybe one day someone would see that she felt the pain, just as they did. Maybe she just needed more pain? Maybe then they would see.