And So Begins...

The thought times and the frown lines, Destiny I am in your hands. The last laugh of a mangled childhood and the first chimes of the adult alarms. The monsters of tomorrow grin as I show, knowing that failure is my only path. The age of innocence long since past, and the time of knowledge is now. If my mind does not shatter as a mirror against a boulder, I might just live to see tomorrow.

Another topic pushed through the cracked lips of the soulless wonders. The gravy train to love town makes her final stop, but too soon for acceptance.The ones who nurtured me now drop me to the ground and throw their faces from me in disgust. Confusion mixed with the common teen angst, an enticing stew of disgust. I turn my back to vomit, but I am faced again with the terrors of my people. My own seed donor spits his tales of hatred at me as I cower away in fear. The rage that takes him is his own security blanket, shredded by his seed donor as a boy. More so the fear in his eyes and the disappointment are enough  to drive me away with the screams of society in my ears. For a grown child thrown into the world, a fathers' hug would be a luxury, though luxuries are for the rich.so the child who loves with her heart and not her cunt is thrown back into the lions den, in their hopes to destroy her tattered spirit.

The air blows cool as the fingers work their magics. I sit and wonder, Is this really another thing I need. my friends whisper through their bionary logs that I must, and my mind is helpless to their Sirens call. I crept through the cracks to make my home here, though the earth is too pixelated for me to dig. I would scream my pain, but the sounds would fall on deaf ears. I digress to my future of hours logged on writing out my every whim when I should be worried about other pressing matters in my deteriorating existence. The examinations brought on me by the state of Chaos wrack my thoughts, Leaving the pit it never should have been.

My oral pains that grounded me deplete as a plastic remedy fixes all pains. With the imitation relief I grow more tired, as if a spell has caught me. My bed is a pedestal in which fantasy is turned into reality, and she calls me at all times.