Author's Notes: OK first of thank to Artemis Assassin for inspiration! It may not make any real sense, but if you'll turn your head and squint you'll get it.
Disclaimer: You know what I do not own.
Word Crimes.
I know it's wrong, I know that but you just don't understand. It didn't start of like this. At first it was out of necessity, to protect my sanity. See I've always lived by this one morale: Deny, deny, deny. And if you get caught out then you lie. That's the way I was taught, that's the way it was. Now I can't stop it from being the way it is and it's killing me. They just slip out, just as easily as used air leaves my lungs and it feel's just as often. I know it's wrong. I know that much. I do have a moral compos, it's just a little bit conflicted. See I used to do it because that was the way he trained me, then I did it simply because. Now the art form is ingrained in my life, it's engraved it's initial's into the pale blue enamel surface of my fragmented soul. I've tried to stop but it just happens. But if I don't know who I am without my word crimes, they make me whole. Please society can't I keep them? Can't I just crawl away with them, I love them. They make me normal, they make me sane. They are me. Don't take my me away. Please don't make me live in reality, I tried it once. I didn't like it. Leave me alone butchers! Please, I beg of you! What's so amazing about reality, all that's in it is hurt. Leave me be world! Let me live I'm my world, let me drown in my word crimes, let me perfect my art. Oh please, please! I'll clean my room and do my homework! I'll do every task you desire without a breath of complaint if you all just leave me, let me be here. I belong to my world and it to me. Isn't it enough that you confine me to this funny pillow room can't you just let me be. Let me dream, let me drown. Oh god if you're there please, please make them see! I can't be the old me. She drowned in me and what a fuss she made, bawling about her mother and her friends. But the word crimes fixed that. I assume she must have drowned because I no longer hear her. She died, she drowned. Gone. Bye-bye little girl I'll tell your mommy you cried. She died. I was born. Me. Will. That's me. She's gone, stop asking for her. I'll forward her mail to her new address. Wait does heaven have a letter box? I'm not sure, maybe you should e-mail her instead. Maybe I should just do my tie up real tight and sing the morning. Yes. No! Oh this is just much to much. Yes that's what I'll do. Bullet in the brain pan, squish.