I do believe I have a twisted mind
Crazy consumed with blood and sex
With life and death
With experiments
With mistakes
With possibilities
And more over
Writing.
At first I was an aspiring singer/songwriter
Then poet
Then novelist
And short stories
Now I have resorted to this
I will call rambling
Not real words
But more a page of trying to understand life
To understand love
And training myself to have an outlet
To not resort to cutting
Like I once let my mind
Take over my body
And commit suicide not of the body
But of the social standard
And forever let myself be labeled “the cutter”
I suppose its better then the self titles I have come up with for myself over the years
The ***
The anorexic
The bulimic
The fat***
The utterly hopeless romantic.
But lastly the girl who’s attempting to aspire to something only to most likely be shot down by anyone she cares for or respects because she’s so twisted
So messed up
So blood thirsty
Only Dracula himself could understand her.