slutkisssmackgirl

Heart Attack by ~slutkisssmackgirl   He seems to be dead to me. I want to die with him. I hanged myself around his neck, so tight I could not feel, but he didn't squeal at all. I thought that I had cut off his oxygen supply, left him breathless, but I could hear a rhythm beating from his heart. I knew that was me because I left him a piece, he was silent so I could hear him breathe.   He had me in his heart, I'd stay forever. I'd wait forever. He had a piece of me, one that was so young and clean, he could sell his keepsake. I wanted some of him, but he's so far away. He's all gone; I don't want to be alone with her, without him, at leas

I like words being strung together, even if they fall apart. I don't know whether that is a metaphor or not, I suppose you can decide that for yourself, Nonsense is my sense.   Originally I had written some boring shit about how I wished that I had a happy pill when I woke up in the morning, I really wanted a warm feeling to spread through my body and make my legs tingle. I don't need to want that anymore, that is the only good thing about being a sick person, I get to shove opiates down my throat to control the constant, wretched pain in my stomach. I can understand why Kurt Cobain was on smack, for his stomach pain; it takes it away, as d