Unknown/M/None
Title: Unknown
Rating: PG-13
Summary: "My mind is an ocean..."
Pairing: None; it's centric on whoever you like :)
Warnings: Naughty words
Author Notes: I don't know where this came from, it's unusually deep for me and well, I'm proud of it, I guess :3 But let me know what you think! <3
My hands are resting on my thighs as I kneel on the floor in my room. Occasionally I'll reach up and wipe at my eyes, or rub my face tiredly but besides that, I'm motionless. The door is closed and I think I'm alone - I hope I am.
I bite my lip in an attempt to hold back a sob, I let the tears fall, there's no point in trying to hold them back. As they roll down my face, it feels as if everything that has caused this is just, going away. But I know it's not.
For now, the tears are my worries - him, just falling down the carpet, where they get absorbed by the material and forgotten. But I know that they'll leave a stain and when I wake up tomorrow they'll be there, nice and noticeable for me to worry about.
These are stains that will never be cleaned, they're permanent. I sigh heavily, but stay in the same position. I don't know how long I've been here, and frankly, I don't care; just as long as nobody sees me like this. That would be the worst.
My hands go up to my face and they cover it as a new wave of depression washes over me, bringing new tears with it. My stomach is one huge knot as worries of how this will all turn out bother me. My mind is an ocean, all the nice happy little fish at the forefront of it and the scary, ignored fish are at the bottom being ignored; unless, of course, they come up to top with all the cute sea critters and fuck everything up.
Way to go, you scary sons of bitches.
At night, when the ocean is dark and calm and the happy fish are sleeping, that's when the unwanted fish are still awake. Swimming around and doing their thing, that's when they lurk about at the front of my mind; I don't have good dreams anymore, I have nightmares.
And so as I sit here, mulling about in my thoughts and worries, I come to realize - for the umpteenth time - that this is all one big cycle and that it will never end. That I just need to get used to it because there will always be disturbing fish and tears that stain my life permanently and that I just need to get used to it.
It's a way of life.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: "My mind is an ocean..."
Pairing: None; it's centric on whoever you like :)
Warnings: Naughty words
Author Notes: I don't know where this came from, it's unusually deep for me and well, I'm proud of it, I guess :3 But let me know what you think! <3
My hands are resting on my thighs as I kneel on the floor in my room. Occasionally I'll reach up and wipe at my eyes, or rub my face tiredly but besides that, I'm motionless. The door is closed and I think I'm alone - I hope I am.
I bite my lip in an attempt to hold back a sob, I let the tears fall, there's no point in trying to hold them back. As they roll down my face, it feels as if everything that has caused this is just, going away. But I know it's not.
For now, the tears are my worries - him, just falling down the carpet, where they get absorbed by the material and forgotten. But I know that they'll leave a stain and when I wake up tomorrow they'll be there, nice and noticeable for me to worry about.
These are stains that will never be cleaned, they're permanent. I sigh heavily, but stay in the same position. I don't know how long I've been here, and frankly, I don't care; just as long as nobody sees me like this. That would be the worst.
My hands go up to my face and they cover it as a new wave of depression washes over me, bringing new tears with it. My stomach is one huge knot as worries of how this will all turn out bother me. My mind is an ocean, all the nice happy little fish at the forefront of it and the scary, ignored fish are at the bottom being ignored; unless, of course, they come up to top with all the cute sea critters and fuck everything up.
Way to go, you scary sons of bitches.
At night, when the ocean is dark and calm and the happy fish are sleeping, that's when the unwanted fish are still awake. Swimming around and doing their thing, that's when they lurk about at the front of my mind; I don't have good dreams anymore, I have nightmares.
And so as I sit here, mulling about in my thoughts and worries, I come to realize - for the umpteenth time - that this is all one big cycle and that it will never end. That I just need to get used to it because there will always be disturbing fish and tears that stain my life permanently and that I just need to get used to it.
It's a way of life.