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[x_brokentoy_x]

walking into my dark room I stumble over scattered clothes and useless parts of my life that has seem to lost all meaning. Peeling off my black fishnet shirt I fall to my bed absolutely drained. as I look over to my wall where my photos have fallen I sigh at the sight of a painting of blood on my wall and I want to finish it. I run my hands over my

Comments

[anonymous]

you should of kept rolling on that roof untill you hit the sidewalk.
-hate always,
tony

[anonymous]

wow, I must say...... that journal entry made me think...... I useually don't comment on people's journals that I don't know....... but I had to.....
it seemed like your writings had great depth to them.... if you wrote a book, it would be good..... just thought I had to say that, maybe I shouldn't have.......

[x_brokentoy_x]

*blush* I'm so flattered someone commented on my journal. It's a weird feeling knowing something I wrote made someone think and comment when they usually don't comment. thank you mysterious stranger.

[ember_myst]

This reminded me of the first time I saw your scars. I feel the same way about reading this that I felt when I saw them, the same way as when you nonchalantly pointed to the pictures on your wall and told me what was behind them. Remember how I used to tell you you needed an outlet that DIDN'T harm you? Reading this brought back so many flashings of memory...