oneshot/drabble
Okay so here is another attempt at a oneshot/drabble. I wrote it as a sort of sequel / sister piece to 'Have You Ever' (can be read at my journal) but it can be read independently.
Title: The Beginning Of The End
Author: Rinny (princess_borgz)
Rating: PG15
Warnings: Swearing, self harm, just generally depressing
A/N: The title and lyrics all belong to HIM, not me. Also, if reading about self-harm offends you, don't read.
The Beginning Of The End
'Save your happiness for tomorrow and today we'll drown in your tears...'
I don't know how you do this to me. Scratch that. I do know. It's me. I care too fucking much. Especially for you. Not that you give me much reason to. Promises, promises. It's all about Goddamn promises with you, isn't it? And then the time comes to deliver and where are you? No-fucking-where to be found. I always give you the benefit of the doubt; 'he must be feeling guilty about letting me down,' but you don't, do you? Is it all a game to you? That's how it seems. I spend every waking minute thinking about you but you're off somewhere with her, not caring that you're fracturing my soul. My very being.
That's when I lock myself in the bathroom, taking with me a lone candle. Black. How appropriate. And then I take out my razorblade. My old friend. My reliable friend. As I dig the cold, sharp metal into the flesh of my thigh I think of you. My treacherous mind attempts to drown me in thoughts of you. And in the dark hours of the early morning I finally understand the meaning of the words 'buried alive by love'. Your words. Did you ever actually feel like that? No. I don't think you did. Otherwise you wouldn't be playing these mind-fuck games with me.
I dig the blade harder, finally piercing the skin, willing the thoughts to disappear. I watch, seemingly suspended in time, as a trickle of crimson blood trails its way down my thigh and into the shower drain. The agony of reality gradually fades away and is replaced with a sense of calm. I am able to focus again. Focus on tangible, physical pain instead of the soul-searing ache of your non-existent love. I lift my blade again, my fingers bloody, and make another slice neatly beside the first. I watch as more blood drips steadily down my thigh. It is with startling clarity that I realise it's not merely blood or my thoughts of you that I am purging; it is my soul.
Title: The Beginning Of The End
Author: Rinny (princess_borgz)
Rating: PG15
Warnings: Swearing, self harm, just generally depressing
A/N: The title and lyrics all belong to HIM, not me. Also, if reading about self-harm offends you, don't read.
The Beginning Of The End
'Save your happiness for tomorrow and today we'll drown in your tears...'
I don't know how you do this to me. Scratch that. I do know. It's me. I care too fucking much. Especially for you. Not that you give me much reason to. Promises, promises. It's all about Goddamn promises with you, isn't it? And then the time comes to deliver and where are you? No-fucking-where to be found. I always give you the benefit of the doubt; 'he must be feeling guilty about letting me down,' but you don't, do you? Is it all a game to you? That's how it seems. I spend every waking minute thinking about you but you're off somewhere with her, not caring that you're fracturing my soul. My very being.
That's when I lock myself in the bathroom, taking with me a lone candle. Black. How appropriate. And then I take out my razorblade. My old friend. My reliable friend. As I dig the cold, sharp metal into the flesh of my thigh I think of you. My treacherous mind attempts to drown me in thoughts of you. And in the dark hours of the early morning I finally understand the meaning of the words 'buried alive by love'. Your words. Did you ever actually feel like that? No. I don't think you did. Otherwise you wouldn't be playing these mind-fuck games with me.
I dig the blade harder, finally piercing the skin, willing the thoughts to disappear. I watch, seemingly suspended in time, as a trickle of crimson blood trails its way down my thigh and into the shower drain. The agony of reality gradually fades away and is replaced with a sense of calm. I am able to focus again. Focus on tangible, physical pain instead of the soul-searing ache of your non-existent love. I lift my blade again, my fingers bloody, and make another slice neatly beside the first. I watch as more blood drips steadily down my thigh. It is with startling clarity that I realise it's not merely blood or my thoughts of you that I am purging; it is my soul.