and there is the light, girl. the light too much for you to take. notsonice.shows you now how you were made the ghost-writer of someone else's dreams. and even when they fled with the soft touch of the mist, leaving nothing but the stark pain of uncertainty, you stopped not once to mourn. but it was you who made the prophesy, you thought.almost a choice you made and you knew you had figured it all out way back and you thought too much and forgot to cry.what could have been was to silly for you to consider, still is. now when the feeling slithers its way across the inebriated mind, nothing pricks you more than that one feeling. pity.
WHY DO THEY FUCKING PITY YOU, I DO NOT UNDERSTAND.
ILL SHOVE THE FEELING UP YOUR ASS IF YOU PITY THE LITTLE GIRL ANYMORE, YOU SUCKERS. AND THE WHOLE GODDAMNED ACT OF THOUGHFULNESS THAT YOU KEEP PLAYING IN YOUR MIND, JUST CHUCK IT OK? SHE DOESNT EXIST.