All the pretty lies. All the fake faces. I don’t know myself and that seems to be the norm around here. All the fools that blindly follow. The monsters seem to be my only friends and my nightmares are my personal jail cell. But I don’t care and I tell myself that all my issues aren’t there. As I get older the rain is not my enemy but my comfort and I dance in it alone at night. The look in my eyes tells you that I’m a lost soul. Love was never in my dictionary and a feeling that never pumped blood in my dark little heart. They say that I’m out of control but they can’t judge me for their not saints but sinners. The fire that used to burn inside me is now hollow as it is dying. Kids aren’t chasing clouds but the bad thoughts that hold them hostage. There is no beautiful endings and it’s painted red, a big warning sign. – Elle
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