Merry Fucking ChristmasSanta, that magical person who breaks into peoples houses as they get excited about it. But, contrary to popular opinion, not everybody gets freakishly happy about the visit of this mysterious person and this particular cozy little house had a dog, a dog that was not fond of the creepily jolly old man. When up on the rooftop the sound of reindeer hooves were heard, the dog decided to give Santa one fair warning. "woof woof, woof woof woof!!" Roughly translated meant "Fuck off you lazy jack ass, those are my cookies! MINE!! Go steal from some other house!" But alas, poor Santa didn't speak dog, so he had no idea what the dog was saying and thus continued his perilous journey down the chimney. After getting stuck a couple times he finally made it to the fireplace, and into the house. While busy greedily shoving the cookies that the dog so dearly loved in his face, he dropped his guard long enough for the dog to sneak up behind him and rip the overly cheery bastard to bloody pieces. Th
Ashes to ashesHe watches from a safe distance as the fire creeps farther away, destroying everything in its wake. Silently, he curses everybody who tries to stop it, convinced none of them deserved to live. When the flames he created and so dearly loved were no longer visible, he thought it best to walk back home; if he couldn't have a front row seat, he'd catch it on the news, not as good, but definitely better than nothing. While absorbed in his musings on the evils of humanity, he became completely unaware of his surroundings until he was rudely interrupted by a yellow ball of fuzz with a furiously wagging tail. Trying his best to ignore the infuriatingly cheerfulness of the helpless animal, he continued on his way. Once he reached his home, his sanctuary away from people where nobody would bother him, he became enraged to find that the puppy had followed him all the way there, begging for attention like a crack addict will beg for money. Getting sick of its presence, the man takes the
Seeing RedRed floods my vision as the blood flows freely from the multitude of freshly open wounds. The shrieks of agony clear my groggy mind, and deafen me as salt is ground into the abrasions that covered their entire body. Pain. Pure, seemingly perpetual pain. This place-with blood stained walls, the floor covered with dead and dying bodies, and with the smell so thick and overpowering you can taste it-was built for no other reason than to cause screaming anguish. Originally, it was supposed to be an interrogation room, that would use any means necessary to extract information from the inhabitants of the room, whether they were in there for murder, rape, or just being in the wrong place at the wrong time and the "interrogators" needed someone to "question." But it was supposed to have faded like a shadow in the sunlight, to be nothing more than a story used to scare misbehaving little kids, but it didnt, it still exists. The torture of the person whose screams awoke me from my drugged slumbe
AloneLost in a void of ever encompassing darkness never to be rescued, abandoned and left to die. Surrounded by hoards of people yet still completely alone. Everybody is too caught up in their superficial lives to pay attention, nobody understands or even tries to help. I am left to fend for myself in the dark and feeling worthless like a forgotten rag doll. My life is pointless, no sense to prolonging my inevitable death. As a desperate attempt to end the pain, I grab the gun, and bidding everybody farewell I steal my last gasping breath and pull the trigger.
wingsMy wings have been broken. Torn apart slowly, painfully by the monsters of society. All hope of flying is lost, dying on the ground with the remaining shreds of my once beautiful wings, as I am overcome by the immense sadness that drowns my every thought, my every feeling. I'm told I am nothing, not worthy of flying , and that I will never amount to anything, so they take it upon themselves to destroy my only means of escape. My wounds have scarred but they will never fully heal, leaving me with wounds like endless chasms inside of me. Everything has been taken, nothing has been left. Every day is like trying to live in a frozen wasteland of pain and suffering, as I am cast aside like a ragged doll by a tantrum prone toddler. My existence is nothing, and my soul will not know peace until I regain my wings in death.
ObsessionI get high just being around you. I'm infatuated with everything about you. You tell me that you love me and you never want to be without me, but then you leave. Someone better than me has come into your life, and I am no longer of any importance. I am left alone to wallow in my own self pity as you forget I even exist. But then you come back and say you love me again. You torment me, ripping my feelings to shreds. You don't hit me when I'm hidden in the recesses of my mind, you kick me; it's easier for you and more painful for me. My pride has been shattered into millions of insignificant bits, deadly to the touch making it impossible to pick up the pieces in an attempt to start over. Your killing me inside when you replace me, yet I forgive you every time you say your sorry. I don't want to be used anymore, I want to be free from you and I only know one way to be free. Killing you is my only option, but I will die with you because, even though you hurt me, I can
AttentionAddicted to the attention she demands, creating problems for herself; cutting, starving. Always in the spotlight yet never feeling complete. Something is missing, the most important piece of the puzzle. The key to unlock the truth about her. Confusion and sadness drowning her, taking away every shred of her dignity left, and scattering it into the wind like meaningless scraps of paper. The pain she puts herself through to keep the spotlight as long as possible, trying to fill the empty void he had created. She didn't want to feel empty. It was all his fault but he couldn't care less. The attention wasn't enough to make her forget her pain anymore, she wanted a permanent solution to make sure she never got hurt again. Taking her razor she locked herself in her room and sliced open her wrists, letting the blood flow free as the emptiness finally escapes, taking her life along with.
FacadesA room stuffed to the brim with overpriced clothing, overpowering perfume, and fake smiles all used to hide their true identities. Faces hidden behind thin masks that allow them to cover anything even slightly resembling a conscience. Every conversation used as a pathetic excuse to outwit and humiliate each other, using any means necessary to become the winner of this childish game. Yet, no matter how hard they all try to hid it from themselves and each other, they all have weaknesses, and as soon as the masks slips, that weakness is exploited to its fullest extent. They become stripped of everything they have worked to create with their false facades, and are fed ruthlessly to the proverbial pack of wolves , made up entirely of the self absorbed monsters they tried so hard to become a part of. They spent so much time hidden behind their mask they had forgotten how to take it off, they had become trapped in their own intricately sp