Your rose, your cancer.

This is just some thing i have been working on. None of this is inspired by my life, it is completely fictional.

I’m the anorexic teenage queen you hear about. Everyone knows me. I have had many people pour me my drinks, I have had many people hold my cigarette while I fix my eye makeup.  I pretend to fall in love. In love with all the beautiful, long haired, cigarette smoking boys with deep set, long lashed eyes. But I have never been in love. With anyone. I laugh at love. I laugh at those people crying about heartbreak, about breaking up with somebody. I even laugh at those perfect three year long, solid couples.

I don’t take advantage of people, they let me take advantage of them. I’m that mysterious girl you dance with all night, who leaves you right after the last song, and never comes back. You love all my antics, let’s face it. You love that I’m not like the others. Not like anyone in your small little town. I do as I please, I walk all over you, I take away everything you know about your world, and you simply let me. You let me use you as my personal rag doll. You let me put that matchstick to the gasoline. You want my company even if it leaves you with blisters and burns. You chase misery, all the way, knowing sweet, sweet misery is exactly what you will get. I am your rose. And I’m your cancer.

And when I’m not with anyone,

I can never stop myself from going under. I’m always drowning. I am always falling over, I am always fumbling, trying to find the next cigarette to put in my mouth so I can chew the end. I am always putting myself in dangerous situations. I can’t stop. Attracted like a moth to a flame I am, to revenge. That is all I think about, every second of every day. I seek revenge. And I seek redemption. All at the same time.

You will never see me cry. But you might catch me take out that black, silk tie from the back of my closet and hold it to my chest, and then stuff it back deep inside the closet. You might hear me scream and throw things around, behind closed doors. You might get a glimpse into the static noise my life is. They say people can forgive and forget, always, and that people are forgiven and forgotten. Those two go to a far extent, but you cannot forgive my unimaginable sins, and I cannot forgive theirs. It is a war between the two sides, theirs currently victorious, theirs with more monsters.  Mine? Mine still struggling. Mine with only one monster.

I am your cancer. Their sins consequences and left overs, are mine. And through that ‘cancer’ I am dying. But I refuse to die before I get what I seek.