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Oh darling never forget, The way it feels to cry yourself to sleep,…: painfulsecrets
http://painfulsecrets.livejournal.com/199394.html
Oh darling never forget,. The way it feels to cry yourself to sleep,. How nice for your pillow to be wet,. To dream and forget,. If only for a moment,. If only I'd forget. The strength to end it all,. To slow down just a little,. The heart to stop your pain,. As my blood flows out,. Spits like crimson rain. If only my head will stop screaming,. Just long enough to feel the tear,. You clutch it so tight in your hand,. But it feels as light as air. If only for the strength to stop your tears,.
painfulsecrets.livejournal.com
Lost Link: painfulsecrets
http://painfulsecrets.livejournal.com/196099.html
James the Greatest (. A while back, someone made a post to one of the SI communities I was in with a link to a place called "Secret Secret," or something of that nature. The site hosted a board on which you posted anonymously. I'm not sure which community, however. Anyway, my computer attacked me, and I lost the link. So if any of you have the address to said site, I would really appreciate it! Post a new comment. We will log you in after post. We will log you in after post. We will log you in after post.
painfulsecrets.livejournal.com
Yay I worked out how to post....finally!: painfulsecrets
http://painfulsecrets.livejournal.com/195671.html
Yay I worked out how to post.finally! To the people I love. I see you with eyes streaming because of me. I’ll watch you while you sleep,. Whisper in your ear. Your eyes are fixed on the death of tomorrow,. I have time to kill and I’m drowning in sorrow. I have this knife in my hand that provides my release,. Everything you need to make a death complete. Behind these dead eyes lie secrets untold. My heart is silver but it should be gold. The poison that took my soul that keeps me from feeling anything.
painfulsecrets.livejournal.com
Seven Stages Of Death: painfulsecrets
http://painfulsecrets.livejournal.com/195504.html
Seven Stages Of Death. No banners waved, no music played,. No tear to shed, no one to stay,. No church bells heard, no procession led,. No last goodbyes, no final words. No one who cares when you’re nineteen. And life is just one bad dream. No one can see, only twenty-one. Its cut to feel, and drugs to numb. Twenty-five with no real plans. Just highs and lies and one night stands. The pills don’t work, the blade feels dull. Now thirty-two with bloody hands. Half a lifetime spent alone. Post a new comment.
painfulsecrets.livejournal.com
a the child: painfulsecrets
http://painfulsecrets.livejournal.com/197387.html
James the Greatest (. There's a child with some flowers. Do you see her? She's wearing a fluffy, thin white dress,. With a yellow sunflower in her right hand. And a white dandelion one in her other. Her light blonde hair is in a high ponytail with a white, laced ribbon tying it up. But now she's hiding. She just pulled herself around a corner by a back door. I look, and. Then an older child walked in. Almost an adult, really. She was tall, developed, and boastful. She kept coming back. She will scare me.
painfulsecrets.livejournal.com
Swimming Lessons: painfulsecrets
http://painfulsecrets.livejournal.com/199626.html
In the summer of my eleventh year. I failed my swimming lessons. What got me was floating. You pretended to be dead. After many long moments. Ever-so-slightly to take a breath of air. On January 18th 1997,. By four friends I’d grown up with my whole life;. They burnt me with cigarettes. Afterwards asked my forgiveness;. Said they couldn’t help it,. The bottom dropped out from under. Everything I thought I knew to be true. Pretending to be dead made me feel dead. After the rape, I felt like I was floating.
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