And will this never end, i'm tired of all this walking.
A smile that controls all the movements that i make. This controls my fingers, and the way i am talking. The things that i say to him as i picture the most sickening scene. I swear to you this will never feel right again. I push this barrel to his head and want to blow it away. I swear i could pull this trigger i promise i could pull this trigger. Look in the mirror and face the reaper, my mind. Be scared of your own home. Just one click and you are dead. I would leave a trail of blood on the floor. And i would forever be glad you are gone. You have a pretty sick smile on your face.
It always tortures me, these thoughts of pain. Thank you to those that make these stories possible. I hate you, i really do. Because these things torture me every fucking night you complete assholes. You are my nightmares and you are the ones that kill me as i slip into sleep. But I do have this story so here you go fans.
-You broke the oar across my chest. “Fuck you asshole”, but what good came out of that? He killed me with his dagger in the end, jabbing it into my head. The temple is soft he thought and killed your friendly narrator. With blood stained hands he ran from the scene. Mother fucker he thought to himself, mother fucker. And all he could see in his skull was the heartbreak and the pain, the heartbreak. And lets say that he saw it all, me fucking his fiancé. Ripping her pussy wide open, making her scream and moan; he saw it all. So the stabbing was all fine and dandy to this horrible narrator, because heartbreak is too much to handle sometimes. So he ran and ran. He finally became too lost and cold; he retraced his footsteps and found myself lying there…dead as a fucking shark on land. He couldn’t stand it; his best friend was dead. Tears soaked the collar of his shirt, and his eyes reddened as he cried for everything that had happened, and how he hated himself more than anyone.
So he tugged at the narrator’s body and pulled it towards the water. He had killed his best friend on the beach, rocky and perfect. No one would ever see it. He dragged the carcass and could hear the sharp edges of rocks grabbing at the dead body every so often and tearing the flesh from it. Blood followed him. He carried the narrator more and more and then took the body and put it underwater. He looked at the bloody mess he had caused…and gave a great laugh that shook the birds from the flesh left behind on the jagged rocks. He then stuck the knife to his throat and slit himself wide. Blood spewed from his neck and covered everything in front of him
He thought to himself, “Whoa, what a wonderful life”.
It always tortures me, these thoughts of pain. Thank you to those that make these stories possible. I hate you, i really do. Because these things torture me every fucking night you complete assholes. You are my nightmares and you are the ones that kill me as i slip into sleep. But I do have this story so here you go fans.
-You broke the oar across my chest. “Fuck you asshole”, but what good came out of that? He killed me with his dagger in the end, jabbing it into my head. The temple is soft he thought and killed your friendly narrator. With blood stained hands he ran from the scene. Mother fucker he thought to himself, mother fucker. And all he could see in his skull was the heartbreak and the pain, the heartbreak. And lets say that he saw it all, me fucking his fiancé. Ripping her pussy wide open, making her scream and moan; he saw it all. So the stabbing was all fine and dandy to this horrible narrator, because heartbreak is too much to handle sometimes. So he ran and ran. He finally became too lost and cold; he retraced his footsteps and found myself lying there…dead as a fucking shark on land. He couldn’t stand it; his best friend was dead. Tears soaked the collar of his shirt, and his eyes reddened as he cried for everything that had happened, and how he hated himself more than anyone.
So he tugged at the narrator’s body and pulled it towards the water. He had killed his best friend on the beach, rocky and perfect. No one would ever see it. He dragged the carcass and could hear the sharp edges of rocks grabbing at the dead body every so often and tearing the flesh from it. Blood followed him. He carried the narrator more and more and then took the body and put it underwater. He looked at the bloody mess he had caused…and gave a great laugh that shook the birds from the flesh left behind on the jagged rocks. He then stuck the knife to his throat and slit himself wide. Blood spewed from his neck and covered everything in front of him
He thought to himself, “Whoa, what a wonderful life”.