This place feels like an

Institution, retribution?

To right your wrongs?

I've been struggling since May,

To get over something

I wanted all along.

I'm running, from this emotional decay

You stun me; with ever razor sharp word that

You say.

Sad that things had to end up this way

Fucked up, emotional abortion

I almost wish I never met you.

I wouldn't have to go through

Knowing you'll probably never want me again.

Only sixty days,

I jumped off all my ledges,

And pledged myself

To you.

Deep inside I knew,

That you where to good to be true.

Embarrassed that I fell so fast

Faster than anything in the past

I wanted us to last.

I feel so stupid,

Where is my retribution?

Locked inside my brain,

These four walls have become more of an institution.

Where is my answer?

My fucking solution?


I have always wanted someone magnificent, so amazing he could life the world, if he really wanted. He would be nice, safe, and warm. Also very handsome. Thoughts like that are what scattered my brain all throughout my childhood dreams and expectations. When I was young I was practically counting down to the day I would be able to kiss a boy. I dreamt about it, which was horrible in kindergarten. Nap time is not the best time to find out you like to cuddle.

Puberty was also horrible, I was twelve when I woke up and discovered I had breasts, which honestly freaked me out a bit, to tell the truth. I noticed how boys noticed me around that time, with looks of curiosity in their eyes, same as mine. I was also blissfully ignorant of the fact that everything my childhood dazed mind thought was love was false. Love is hard, and cruel. The emotion has the ability to rip your heart out, and still leave you breathing; I found that out when I was fifteen.

He came in my life, and taught me the truth of what life is with his cruel but beautiful smirk, of what emotions are for, and why it is absolutely necessary to guard your heart with the thickest ice you can muster. He's taught me a lot in these two years, and I think I really owe him a lot. Do I love him?

Erin has made love impossible in my life, for which I am slightly grateful.


I watch her as she silently smiles, and shrugs her strong shoulders. The light shines down from heaven and casts a shadow of a halo on her chocolate locks. I think her presence, and her ethereal beauty, bring out the corny asshole in my mind. She is an angel in disguise, and I daresay I have ruined her. I always have enjoyed fucking with something beautiful. Hers is a type of beauty I cannot have enough of though.

The mere scent of her hair, her skin, and I am back at her side infecting her with the poison I constantly surround myself in. I always hear my mind asking, if she will one day fall with me? If she will even know what this means.

Her emerald eyes search me out and she smiles against the throng of people around her, and I silently know that I am all she cares to know. A certain swell of purely masculine pride swells in my chest, and I no longer think of me tainting, and abusing something innocent. She wanted me to take her into my world, and me. I adored her so I agreed, my darkness surrounds her now, and I wonder if she loves me.

Love, such a strong, confusing word.

One I threw out the window long before I met Brianna, she just happens to be the beautiful woman that can keep my attention.

My body aches for her touch sometimes, in the middle of the night when I am lying awake, I dream of her soft skin brushing against mine, in a way that is only bri. Only she moves with me that way, only her body feels that way, and if I think for long enough I admit that maybe I really have fallen for Brianna McHale.

If only I hadn't made myself impossible to love.


I know I walk with a certain grace, I have been taught all of my life to never hang my head down. As if I should show shame when I am not shameful, my head is always high, my dark hair surrounding it, and I know my eyes glow like that of a lions. I know the presence I inflict on people when I am near them, and a part of me loves being the reason they quiver.

I enjoy being the intimidation, because for so many years I was being intimidated. I guess that is how I found Erin. Beauty had always been a part of what makes me, I'm not tooting my own horn, but I know that I am beautiful. The gene runs through the McHale line, but beauty is not everything. People like to abuse ones beauty, inside and out, and then crush your whole world in front of you. I admit, Erin has taught me how to fight my inner demons and be strong. Stay put, give myself a back bone, and now no one will fuck with me. Half of these people in Emerson high school will not even glance at me in the eye.

"If you stare any harder baby they might turn to ashes." Erin's gruff voice was whispering in my ear, and I instantly felt goosbumps, his voice was something entirely erotic. I found that out long ago.

I turn in his arms that I already know are around me, and smile up into his chocolate colored eyes, his some tan skin looks darker today because of his emerald colored shirt, and his pants fit him snug and low. I can see the boxers I bought him last year peaking over the jeans, I smiled into his face. He is the only one who sees my smile nowadays.

"One can only hope, right?" I joke smiling; his dark brown hair tickles my nose. He slightly smiles back at me, then I feel his lips one my cheek. I sigh, I'm addicted to this boy, but somewhere I know this world he has sucked me into is not right. There is something nagging my mind about my Erin.

Like the fact that I am unable to truly love him, even though my body reacts to his in a way that seems as if we are meant to be. His mere presence sends me on a high that leave heroin addicts looking weak plunging their needles of poison in their veins. I have my own evil potion I crave for, and Erin has made sure I keep coming back.

I fear I might always come back to Erin.

I feel his warm lips graze my forehead, and he is giving me that look. The one that says I'll never be able to escape.

Then we kiss, and it is as if my mind has been wiped clean.


I smirk at my sister, she's looking at out new school as if she cannot believe dad would ship us here. Ha, like the old bastard cares as long as we make him look good. The old man is in politics, never really cared to ask what for, and he never bother to give us an explanation. He hides me and Victoria from the world, moving our troublesome selves every year or two so no one puts together that Matthew and Victoria Rio and Jonathan Rio are kin. God forbid.

I motion for my sister to open the door; she slips in so fast all I catch of her outside of the door is her curly midnight colored hair. The fucking slippery bitch, I slid inside the door, and peer at the ruby and gold colored hallways. Kind of funny my last school had the same colors. I lag around a bit, before I see my sister's dark hair in a class room.

I walk in the room to grab her, and am faced the most beautiful girl I have ever seen, her eyes glow like emeralds. Then all I feel is pain, and all my sight is in darkness.


Should I continue? I need a beta, lemma know what you think.