Will they ever have mercy?
Will they ever let us be us?
Will they ever stop criticising our every action, thought, breath?
No, they won’t, because that’s our world. A world that is not cruel but the people that are living in it. They tell us to be who we want to be then turn away and make us like them against our will.
Why?
No one knows.
But I wish I did.

This wasn’t a little girl. This was something else. It might look like a like girl, and talk like a little girl, but it sure as hell wasn’t one.

This was… a demon in a poor little girl’s fragile body. An innocent child that was minding her own business was now a victim of a merciless demonic figure. The poor, poor child.

She walked the streets as a normal girl but inside she was caged by the demon.

She talked...

To love...
Or to hate...

Does it really matter?

Both are just as bad as each other.
Both are just as painful.
...
...
...

Both... are a sin.

There was only half of a second of silence between what I knew to be my last few heartbeats.

To my dearest friend, Harmony. I believe you now: heroes are real. I still don’t believe in super heroes, though.

One second between heartbeats.

The reason in which I believe in heroes is because you gave me proof. Youare my proof. You said that the properties of a hero are courageous, kind, persistent, patient, selfless, passionate, supportive, and devoted. You’ve...

.
.
.

I wanted to tell her why.
I wanted to tell her what was hurting me.
I wanted to tell her everything.

But no words came out of my mouth.
They sat on my tongue like prisoners held back by chains;
they were running forward,
fighting the chains,
screaming to be heard.

But it all fell on deaf ears, blind eyes, and oblivious minds.

In the river I can see pebbles,
Various shades of grey, white, and black,
As many as there are stars in the sky.
 
In the river I can see fish,
Rainbow comets flying passed,
Faster than the eye can follow.
 
In the river I can see water,
An easy flow of shades of blue,
Light, dark, mixed, separated.
 
In the river I can see ducks,
Brown contrasting with blue,
Guiding the chicks that follow in lines.
  ...

Her touch had my nerves in knots
but her kisses untangled them, 
only to tangle them all over again

In a field,
Where roses and tulips rise to their pedestal of perfection,
A force that will never yield,
While children stayed in their careless oblivion.

Lies and Truth,
Two beings sitting in silence,
Life and Death,
To be interrupted by a question of innocence.

“Death?” She asked,
“Why do they love me, but hate you?”
He rose, with a tongue covered in distaste.
“Because, Darling, you…”

She listened in carefully,
“You are a beautiful lie…”
He stood, his hight...