And I'll worship myself.
Silly.
Pluck the wings of the butterfly, see if it still tries to fly...like phantom limbs, but with beautiful satiny and velvet-esque shimmers that catch your eye. Do the butterflies still think that they have the ability to flutter away, once their wings have been ripped away? What a bittersweet image.
School is...school. I am back to my normal self. I am getting used to being surrounded by gossiping and shit talking, I feel it rub off on me, and I feel sick.
But in the end the truth will be revealed to me, right? Like a reflection in a covered mirror.
What's up with my totally stupid/melodramatic analogies and metaphors?
Someone should shove a crucifix down my throat and see if it helps, I'd like to be my own martyr.
Pluck the wings of the butterfly, see if it still tries to fly...like phantom limbs, but with beautiful satiny and velvet-esque shimmers that catch your eye. Do the butterflies still think that they have the ability to flutter away, once their wings have been ripped away? What a bittersweet image.
School is...school. I am back to my normal self. I am getting used to being surrounded by gossiping and shit talking, I feel it rub off on me, and I feel sick.
But in the end the truth will be revealed to me, right? Like a reflection in a covered mirror.
What's up with my totally stupid/melodramatic analogies and metaphors?
Someone should shove a crucifix down my throat and see if it helps, I'd like to be my own martyr.