Not much to say here. Dark shit cuz I'm feeling depressed. But I don't cut myself.

WARNING: Emo-ness, self-harm...and anything else I fail to mention. No swearing though.


Dark Dance

The darkness is welcome.

She loves the feel of it, the pain and then the pleasure.

The first time she did it, it had hurt. She almost put the blade down, almost backed out. But then the pleasure came, and it was worth it.

It was all worth it.

Now, she's used to it.

She feels the pain but isn't afraid. She likes the pain.

She wants it.

She embraces pain, and loves it, feels it consuming her. And then when the pleasure arrives, she's gone from the world.

The blackness comes next, the wonderfully black darkness that envelops her like a blanket and keeps her away from the world.

It is like a dark dance.


Pain.

Pleasure.

Darkness.

Pain.

Pleasure.

Blackness.


It is rare for someone to see the scars. When they do, they recoil from her, as if she is an animal.

As if she is a monster.

And beneath her dark bangs, she chews the piercings in her lip and smiles. Her green eyes darken to an emerald and she relives the pain, pleasure and darkness. And no one knows.

They don't see a person in her.

They see n empty shell.

It is ever rarer for someone to care, to want to help.

Some of them try to talk to her, to reach her and tell her that it's dangerous.

But she hates them.

She hates clashing with people.

She hates the world.

She doesn't listen to what they say. Simply turns and walks away.

Then she comes home. She picks up the blade.


Pain.

Pleasure.

Darkness.

Dark dance.

Clash.

Retreat.


Her walls are stained red with her blood. The bathroom sink has a stain from the first time. The pain was too much, she didn't wipe it off.

Her mother doesn't care.

She is too drunk to notice.

And her father is gone.

She hopes he is dead.


Deadly smile, gorgeous eyes.

Warm heart, filled with lies.

No complaints, pushed around.

For some reason she won't fall down.

Independent, pretty face.

Ran away without a trace.


The blade comes down.

More pain.

More pleasure.

More darkness.

Dark dance.

Clash.

Return.

Repeat.


Dark dance.


Hey! I know I haven't written anything in...FOREVER. But bear with me, I had NO TIME. Whatsoever. Literally, all this schoolwork and shit...MAH. My brain hurts. Whatever, I hope you like. Also, you night see the poem in there, "She Won't Fall Down". Yeah, that's not mine. I didn't write it, I just found it on the internet. I don't know who wrote it. But I feel the need to say that it doesn't belong to me. Yeah.

- Gemini-MoonChild