My skin is like a garden. I keep digging up the dirt. Just to see my red roses grow. And then hide them under my shirt. I don't show my flowers to anyone. The beauty is only for me. In other peoples eyes, They're just some ugly weed. I don't like to dig up my garden. The ground will never be healed. My roses are filled with darkness. And no one knows how I feel.
I'm the ugly sister, I'm the horrible daughter, I'm not even the second choice, I'm the "leftover", I'm not the clever one, I'm not the skinny one, I'm the talentless one, I'm the "why are you even here"
As days grew older, so did my heart. As the leaves changed color, so did my skin. As trees died, so did my soul. The one difference is Days will be warm again, Leeves will be green. Trees will come alive. But I will stay this way. My heart will stay cold. Skin will stay pale. Soul will stay dead. As everyone changes back to summer, I'll be fall. Without the beauty.
A locked door, a rusty razor, a towel stained with red. A folded note, a broken mirror and a young girl lays there dead. Their emotions tangle, the room begins to swirl. She was mommy's perfect angel and daddy's little girl.
Cut, burn, pull, scratch. Break some glass and strike a match. Pop the pills and take a drink. Watch your blood run down the sink. Gone are the voices in your head. But now you're close to being dead.
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Over mijzelf
Ik ben V., en gebruik soms ook wel de schuilnaam Hope.
Ik ben een vrouw en woon in (België) en mijn beroep is .
Ik ben geboren op 25/05/1998 en ben nu dus 27 jaar jong.
Mijn hobby's zijn: .
