Secrets
I love Melanie Martinez so this is just pure artistic expression. I have no idea what to believe and I still remain a fan.
"don't let them see what goes down in the kitchen"
more like the bedroom
where you took advantage of her
the girl that trusted you
the girl that looked up to you
the girl that loved you so much
you took her away
and replaced her with a girl that is ashamed
replaced her with a girl that is confused
a girl that is lost
her trust and respect
with every touch
with every look
gone
you stole her soul and never gave it back
because girls can rape too
do not pardon her actions
she is as twisted as the rest
point out the flaws of the others
to deflect from her own
hiding behind their darkness
to mask her own
leaving behind a fan base
who no longer feels they can trust her
they have been ripped apart
and left to question their beliefs
About the Creator
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The Longing...
She wanted him. Every single inch of him. She glared from across the room for what felt like hours. Watching him read was one of her favorite things to experience. She loved how studious and innocent he looked when he was lost in a novel. So calm. She smiled to herself as he moved his lips slightly with each word on the page. Deeply engaged in his reading, he had no idea how intense her gaze on him was. She was practically drooling. She wanted him. She wanted him to submit fully. She got up from the chair and sat on the edge of the bed. Taking her socks off, she made herself comfortable and laid next to him. He lifted his arm and wrapped it under her neck, pulling her close to his body. He gave her a small peck on the forehead and squeezed her tight. She was giddy. She laid her head on his muscular chest and felt the soft ins and outs of his breathing. This was her ultimate happy place.
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My life is splashing before my eyes, as I precariously suspend and prepare for the end, the consumption of my Self and identity. I know that gravity will be the victor in this struggle. Like a pendant, slipping from the chain, the tension has caught me in this moment, bestowing one last gift of reflection. I cling desperately, questioning my purpose. Searching for comfort. And I remember…
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