Submissions by FearLess

It's pathetic isn't it. The way people harms themselves. The way we cut. The reason for it seems uncomprehendable to some and to others it seems like a weak aversion of pain. There are some who "get it". They understand the reasoning and logic behind it. Perhaps not logic but rather the point behind it.
However sometimes there is no reason behind it. No logical way to explain why the actions taken against ones body are done. Or there is no way to explain why a person would do that. No way to say it'll be okay and that the actions taken were meant to happen.
And yet it...

This is a feeling, not of love, but of fear. I do not feel love I don't think, because I believe it is fear. Fear of hurting people, of being without them, fear of myself. There may be thoughts of it being love but it is all fostered by fears. Is it wrong to love because of fear? To be scared of somebody because you don't want to be without them? To do everything in you power to make somebody happy simply because the thought of hurting them kills you inside? To be scared of them denying you for who and what you are? That's the real question isn't it. What happens then if you don't know fear...

A love that burns like a blazing inferno, but sometimes chills like a blizzards wind.
Love which takes you and makes you feel special, then throws you away like you're lesser than it.
Love in which you emerge yourself for you think it will be the last time you're hurt, then knowing that you were wrong again.
Love that nurtures and cares for you, then uses you because it can.
The love you thought would be everlasting until you feel tortured and need it to end.
Love that tricks and teases and taunts while you just try to be happy for once.
What kind of love does that to...

Alone she sits in the shirt of her true love,
She can still feel his warmth on her skin.
The snow falls gently from above her,
She won't feel his warmth again.

Snow falls faster all around her,
Darkness creeps across the sky.
He will now be getting buried.
Isolated she will cry.

The world seems to be slowing quickly,
Without his presence anymore.
The world is starting to turn blacker.
What could be left to live for?

The flowers cover up his casket,
Roses white just like his ghost.
All are from his friends and family...

Once again the time of night that tears away at all of my memories. Once again when I begin to think and wonder why I'm here. Once again my mind will remind me I should not still be alive. And once again my heart will feel the intensity of all this pain. Every night this same damn feeling claws its way back to the surface, and once again I feel no choice but to fight my way through the dark of night. Every night of reoccurrence shall weaken all my strength to try and every night I just get closer to breaking all my will to fight. Sooner or later its going to happen, sooner or later I know...