(no subject)
hmm...bored i guess...cant sleep...just randomly started writing...
there are many different people, living many different lives. with many different problems, causing many different cries. some people are really caring, others are insaine. and some people just dont give a fuck if you dont feel the same. but no one here is perfect, so stop pretending that its true. you think your fooling everyone, but its only fooling you. as your write out your own problems, and you script out your whole lives. when others only see your smiling face, and know nothing of your cries. they think your life is perfect. perfect in every way. when in reality your struggling, to survive another day. behind the perfect picket fence, through closed doors where no one sees. your not even thought about as you fall, sobbing, to your knees. and crying as you remove the shirt to reveal scars of recent pains, suddenly your perfect boyfriend will never be thought of the same. and as you lay there hungry, the only thing you know, is that youll fit into your perfect outfit at the perfect party where you will go. where your not so perfect boyfriend, will lead you up the stairs, and your perfect life will fall apart when you say 'no', but no one cares. all theyll hear of is the party. and of your boyfriends score. theyll know nothing of your fearful screams. your the once was perfect whore. and youll look at all those people, you hurt or put down, and youll wish that you could take it back; cause those perfect friends dont stick around.
yea...its life...
there are many different people, living many different lives. with many different problems, causing many different cries. some people are really caring, others are insaine. and some people just dont give a fuck if you dont feel the same. but no one here is perfect, so stop pretending that its true. you think your fooling everyone, but its only fooling you. as your write out your own problems, and you script out your whole lives. when others only see your smiling face, and know nothing of your cries. they think your life is perfect. perfect in every way. when in reality your struggling, to survive another day. behind the perfect picket fence, through closed doors where no one sees. your not even thought about as you fall, sobbing, to your knees. and crying as you remove the shirt to reveal scars of recent pains, suddenly your perfect boyfriend will never be thought of the same. and as you lay there hungry, the only thing you know, is that youll fit into your perfect outfit at the perfect party where you will go. where your not so perfect boyfriend, will lead you up the stairs, and your perfect life will fall apart when you say 'no', but no one cares. all theyll hear of is the party. and of your boyfriends score. theyll know nothing of your fearful screams. your the once was perfect whore. and youll look at all those people, you hurt or put down, and youll wish that you could take it back; cause those perfect friends dont stick around.
yea...its life...