This world may not be perfect, but my life had been on a steady track for a while. I may have been a child of extreme negativity mixed with the expression of apathy, but never did I stop feeling for my boyfriend. I had fallen for him the summer before ninth grade. The world had never been so beautiful, I emerged from my dreams in excitement, I needed to see my darling. And for those spectacular moments in his arms I was at peace.
But we all know everything must end. The 20 of November would be my demise. A simple phone conversation with a few gruesome topics, he didn't listen, I'll bet he found me sick, insane maybe, because I was serious. I yearned to look death in the eyes, to strangle someone I loved, the most intimate way to die. I longed for a beautiful corpse upon my bed, but alas, I would never voice that I wanted him to be my beautiful copse. Needless to say, he was thoroughly offended. Every time I had ever opened my mouth to release a poet's song, he would be offended; I told him I was afraid to speak around him, for I didn't want to offend him, but it had the opposite effect.
That night I fell asleep to the thought of his cold corpse in my arms, his lips still warm, and his eyes clouded white. Pure bliss. I waded in the swell of joy as I dreamt of minor details, stealing into my thoughts came an offense. I awoke angry at him, at the world. I would not tell him I loved him today, he had been irrational. He did not deserve my love, only death.
OOO