fyregryffin

when she died, she didn't want mourning and black reaping clothes. she wanted the sun to be shining and the sound of her friends laughter to follow her down her dark demise. she wanted people to be dancing and laughing and singing. no one should be allowed to be sad; she wanted to make sure she was doing her job even after death. she wanted vanilla cake to be served and her favorite song to be playing, so loud that it would be vibrating through her loved ones bones so maybe they could finally understand all the tangled emotions she went thought and how she ended up in a box made of willow bark. she wanted her best friend to invite her first

Cat scratches And scars These are what lay on my arms I never cut for attention I did it to know I was alive I never did it for the attention I did it so I could survive I never wanted the negative attention I was a bad girl and needed to pay for my sins I never wanted your undivided attention I wanted to feel free for a tiny while I never wanted to be the center of attention I just wanted to let out what was inside I never wanted attention I just wanted to stop smiling Attention wasn't my goal I was only going out of my mind and pain helped me see So don't call me emo or stupid Because that's not me

You see her from across the way Reading what her body says Long sleeves whispering of bleeding wrists Eyes hang low, silently admitting it You know all of these signs so well The language it speaks, the stories they tell It reads like novels, all full of misery Some of the pages torn from your own history Does it help you to see someone do it like you did Can you see why your friends misconstrued it? And they worried about you all night, every night Can you see now how it was justified fright? You study her scars and know it's not for attention The contours of cuts you know that you should not mention They creep back into darkne