主寂静岭AC汉尼拔,其实是杂食。死在各种欧美影视游戏圈大坑,埋在刺客坑魂归寂静岭,勉勉强强算个写手

I should bury you six feet under, my love.

I know I'm losing you. I know there is a great chance that you might be gone, disappear from my life forever. You may even already have. I now understand why people praise love, yearn for it, write poem ffor it, make songs, novels, countless stories, worship it. This sweet and bitter feeling inside, this well-known dumb emotion, it's such a special pain filling your thoughts with every second, day in and day out. It's eating me away, torturing me, the thoughts of you never die out, it keeps coming back over and over and over again, overwhelming, drowning, chocking, suffocating, it's dragging me down like heavy cuffs into a bottomless pit of sorrow. But do you really care? Of course you don't. Me neither when it's up to someone I don't love, I know how cruel people can be to what they don't care for. I should be moving on, I should forget you, leave everything related to you at the bay and laugh about it when it occasionally knocks on my mind, I should, and OH how I want to I swear to god, how I wish I could kill you inside of my head, crush every bit piece of your existence that's poisoning my very living self, my heart, my mind, my thoughts, my feelings, my emotions, everything caged in your merciless, innocent, sweet manipulation. Are you taking your revenge on me? Do you hate me for breaking your heart when you once still had it on me? Do you? Does your hatred get satisfied enough by watching me suffering for you, being killed slowly by my longing for you? Only god knows how my rage grows every time I lay my fingers on that thought, how I wish I could make you suffer like I did, how my hatred builds up along with my love towards to you, I'd kill you and still be deeply in love with you, and I'd be melting into a mess of tenderness by just a word of caress from you I know I would. I'm in love my dear, so stubborn and fated and doomed in love, with the past shadow, with a ghost in daylight, it turns me into a poet, a lover, an ordinary person, a killer, a fool, a broken heart, the cruelest and weakest murderer. I'm in love with you, desperately in love with the phantom idol in my head, my dearest, do you want to see it? I'd rip my chest open to show you my fondness to you, to show you how much I love and hate and aching for you, how this premeditated one-side love turns my heart to rotten and black. You saved me, by all means, from the illness, I believe that's why I put all of my weight on you. You saved me but never cured me, you became my medicine, you became the sweet, deadly poison that keeps me alive and everyday more addicted. I should bury you my love, my little dove, yes I should bury you six feet under the grave with a tombstone written by my valentine in broken bones, to witness the flowers blooming in spring from your hollow socket, and I would still be in love with you.

2018-08-06
 
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