White Angel With A Black Soul

I might fucked up. Yesterday I kissed that boy I shouldn’t have kissed. I don’t know I guess I just needed distraction or wanted to feel something good after this horrible week but why did I have to choose him. From all people. But let’s be honest it was him who chose me

Non so come ma riesco sempre a fare innamorare le persona assolutamente sbagliate di me. Faccio innamorare le persona più buone. Che vedono un angelo in me. E non vedono che faccio schifo. Non piacerei nemmeno al diavolo in persona

I fucked up i really did I know. But is it fair that you put all the hate you have inside your heart and spill it over me. Like do I really deserve this? Ok I probably do but than just let me go. I’m to emotional to take alle this. You think that you’re just finally getting the chance to tell me what hurt you and don’t even realize that you’re breaking me in two

You all feel so fucking offended whenever I say that I just wanna leave. Well did you ever think about the way you treat me. You grab every little chance to criticize me, to make me feel bad, worthless, stupid and to hurt me. And than you’re surprised that I just can’t take it anymore?

I’m realizing that it must be a lot of fun hurting me otherwise people wouldn’t do it all the time

Consolarsi con altri quando non puoi avere chi vuoi è la cosa più orribile e naturale del mondo. Per quanto faccia schifo, l’essere umano sente sempre il bisogno di cercare un altra persona quando non può avere quella che vuole. Ma c’è una grande differenza nel come lo fa. C’è chi si cerca un altra persona da portare nella propria vita. Da mettere esattamente là dove vorrebbe la persona amata. E poi c’è chi prende un po’ chiunque ma sempre gente passeggera, che entre e esce dalla vita come se niente fosse. Perché quel posto fisso al suo fianco lo tiene ancora riservato per la persona che ama.

Du verstehst das nicht. Keiner liebt mich. Du hast mich auch nicht geliebt. Sonst wärst du doch jetzt nicht bei ihr. Wenn du mich geliebt hättest hättest du dich nicht mit ihr getröstet. Wenn man jemanden liebt tröstet man sich wie ich. Mit flüchtigen Menschen, die in dein Leben kommen und dann wieder verschwinden weil es nur eine Person gibt, von der man möchte, dass sie bleibt. Aber ich mach dir keinen Vorwurf. Mich kann man nicht lieben. Weil ich alles, um mich herum zerstöre. Was auch immer ich berühre ich mache es kaputt. Sachen, Menschen, mein Leben, das Leben der anderen. Ich zerstöre alles um mich herum ausnahmslos. Ich würde ja mich zerstören statt andere, aber bei mir ist gar nichts mehr übrig, das man zerstören könnte. Meine Seele ist das schönste was ich je hatte aber voller Gift. Komplett voller schwarzen Gift, dass die Erde statt die Blüten angreift. Damit der Schein bleibt und gedeiht. Ein oberflächlicher Blick sieht meinen Blütengarten ein tiefer meine verbrannten Wurzeln

Sometimes people ask why I’m single. They’re kinda surprised. Like couldn’t I just get into a high school relationship like everyone else. But the truth is that’s not enough for me anymore. I can’t be satisfied by a beautiful body with an ugly mind. A pretty body can be attractive of course. But that’s just not enough. That’s not what I’m looking for. I want somebody who sees my crazy soul and still loves me. Somebody who will understand my smiles but also my tears for no reason. Somebody who’ll see how broken I am but won’t try to fix me and just accept me with all my broken pieces. Somebody who’ll spend his nights talking ‘bout philosophical things we both don’t even understand. Somebody who will take over my mind and makes me forget what sleep is like. Somebody who makes me shiver whenever our eyes meet. Somebody who’ll touch my heart without touching my skin. Who loves my mind more than my body