Today, I hate this. Whatever this is, whatever we're doing, I hate it.

Destitute

These words, they bring me pain.

They bring me joy... but mostly pain.

My thoughts were once so skeptical.

So cold, so cynical.

So masochistic, so sarcastic.

So ascetic, so painfully poetic.

I clinged to my ugliness.

I clinged to the pain.

I was terrified of happiness, in a way.

Pain was what I knew.

Certain virtues were frightening.

The ones that made my heart pretty.

Faith, hope, love... like the Bible preaches.

Faith? I had faith that everything happens for a reason.

But I had no faith in myself.

Hope? I had hope that things would be okay.

I was hopeless.

Love? I believed in love.

I believed in an anxious, breakable love.

Full of heartbreak and roller-coaster emotions.

Full of crying and shouting and passion and lust.

But it was some kind of love, right?

So I hid them deep down.

Their release would only mean I would lose my artistic pain.

I should've tried harder to hide them.

I should've never let you in to my heart.

I should've known you'd change me.

So what happened to my pretty words?

What happened to my thoughts?

The ones that were so stunning, so breath-stealing?

They disappeared in good taste.

They saw they weren't wanted, weren't passionately needed.

They saw that I had fallen out of love with them.

They weren't my everything anymore.

So they left.

I wish I had them back.

It gets lonely.

I didn't count on you leaving too.

- Princhesca
I'll update sometime this weekend...