lilmama's profile

Sam, there's been a few questions running through my mind lately.  You randomly go off on me.  Every day you tell me you want me to leave, then turn around and tell me you love me.  You don't kiss me goodbye often anymore and you've quit taking care of me like you used to.  I want you to answer my questions honestly.   1.) Do you still love me? 2.) Do you still care about my feelings? 3.) Why do you yell so much? 4.) Why do you expect me to do so much for you when you...

This comes from a heart with bloondstained wings Whose skin has been shattered by the facade within: Suicidal temptations, among other things, Rot to the skull who evilly grins.   This comes from the skull with the spiderweb heart Who's banished from flying by morbid delight, And desires a freedom that's too far apart. So I'll wait in the darkness, searching for sight.

My portait hangs on a cracked wall. It's tilted and faded within its corroded frame, And depicts the pain I carry within: The hallway is dark and spiderweb-covered. It contains no sunlight, yet one can see The only escape is far out of reach; The floor is scattered with sharp razor blades That have painted the walls with blood-crimson red. Beyond the window, the soul will await The freedom that bursts into millions of shards, Burrying splinters into teary eyes. The burn and the sting are numb...

My portait hangs on a cracked wall. It's tilted and faded within its corroded frame, And depicts the pain I carry within: The hallway is dark and spiderweb-covered. It contains no sunlight, yet one can see The only escape is far out of reach; The floor is scattered with sharp razor blades That have painted the walls with blood-crimson red. Beyond the window, the soul will await The freedom that bursts into millions of shards, Burrying splinters into teary eyes. The burn and the sting are numb...

Why does he like his tea so sweet, while I can't stand the sugar? How does he get such sweaty feet, when mine don't have a stench?  How is it that I love him dearly, even after he throws harsh words?  What causes me to wait around for him when I am his last priority?  "You're my wife," he justifies, "it's different with you."  I'm walked all over, a doormat for his wants; my feelings are getting shredded.  The aching thought of a bullet throug...