Killer Of Morals
I'm the killer of morals, and I'll break your statistics into one easy pill to swallow. Satisfaction garunteed. I'm your favorite perfume, that makes you sneeze everytime you wear it, but you wear it anyway. I'm the scariest movie you ever did see, the one that brings a whole new fear into your life, but you love it. I'm the grammar mistake that you always notice, but never hesistate to change. I'm fake to you. I'm only a picture of some girl who you're gonna summarize in one brief thought because seems everyone now-a-days is drowning in a shallow pool. Even if your not some shallow nit-wit, myself included, you'll still do it because you really will never know me, nor have you ever really known. Thus making all your assumptions: I'm complex. I'm a book with a blank cover that you think will be an easy read yet you are soon to discover it never ends, and you're soo intrigued into this story that you can't even find yourself putting it down. I'm one of your lame ass comparisons that doesn't even make sense. I hurt unintentionally because I mainly disclose that I do not feel. Therefore I do not show much of my emotions. On the contrary, and undisclosed, I feel everything. I'm as sensitive as a flower, and whatever my surroundings be will either flourish or wilt me. I've seen too many get crucified for such things. And really, I'm quite sure if I was to publish a letter to the world of all my thoughts and feelings, I would instantly be locked up in the mental institution. Or if I was to display them, I would probably find myself more vulnerable to hurt. Pain is amazing. You go through something so horrible in your life, and yet sometime down the line you find yourself looking back & thinking, "Why did that hurt me so much?" Coincidentally, soon enough you'll find yourself back in that same situation not realising your setting yourself up for the exact same pain. You're just not watching the steps. This happens by being shadowed, and lost by emotions, and feelings so great. Really life just repeats itself. After a few years, you find yourself going down the same path you've already walked down, but you don't recognize it cause you are too shadowed by different faces, places, trends, ect. I however am such a hypocrite, cause I know all of this yet I promise you, I won't recognize them either. Maybe I will. Sometimes I do. Sometimes I just ignore it, I think more than just sometimes actually. Sometimes I just think to myself, just go with your feelings, go with the moment. Well in a moment EVERYTHING can collapse. Even if you weren't alone in the situation, chances are you will be left to clean up this mess, especially if you really let emotions guide this one. I'm contradicting, in what I say then what I do. I am dangerous though because I am so forth about it, and I'll most likely make you know my contradicting ways. And if you still let me get to you in one of my contradicting manners, you'll be kicking yourself because all along you knew I would fuck things up somehow, and you'll wonder why you didn't try and change things, [manipulation]. I can be very manipulating because I really have felt manipulation. I've dealt with some really fucked up people before who can tear you down to such a vulnerable level where they can get whatever they want. I think dealing with someone like that, teaches you all the tricks of manipulation. And recognizing the signs is half the battle. It's the fact that I didn't do anything about them that makes me learn how powerful manipulation is. I think so many let themselves be fooled because love is so overwheming, unrecognizble & new no matter what your age that you think this just might be it. You just might be feeling the worries of love. And in some ways love needs manipulation, but it's more so some type of seduction that needs to go more than just skin deep to get the other to really feel you. It's just sometimes what's inside is fake, cause horrible people DO exist. Sometimes I question wether I am a good person or not. If what I'm saying to people is really genuine, and not just shaddowed and lost behind some cruel intention. But then I've lost things, I've lost people, I've spent hours crying, I've spent nights and weekends alone at home in bed thinking about how I really lost them, and then I realise that I must have really cared. Because even if when they WERE still mine. Even when I did still HAVE them. I sacraficed them for myself. In the end once I lost them, I found myself still months later, even after reconciling with myself that they WERE gone, I would still down the line think about them. Maybe not always thinking about the bad things, but just randomly having a thought of them pop into my head. Losing someone is probably the best lesson you could teach someone vain, because you get them thinking, thinking that they are actually capable of a mistake, a mistake that may always just randomly pop into their head. A tattoo you had done with them, a shade of lipstick that reminds you of them, photographs of you and them, or your favorite picture of them. It's stuck on you. They are stuck on the one thing you always had to look into a mirror at, or you could imprint on some film. But really, memories of people will never really go away, and their will always be something to remind you of them. Now hold on tight and let me, let you understand. Once I get into your mind, I'll probably imprint, or tattoo myself on more than just your pictures and your mirror. I think it's sooo funny how being "fucked up" is concidered such an insult, or such a flaw when I'm quite sure it's just another normal human quality just like being born with a heart, or with a brain. Then again there's even exceptions to that. So let's just get to know each other, or something. But be prepared and set yourself up for some fucked up mind games which we BOTH are probably gonna unintentionally, or intentionally, play.
__!@#
__!@#