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This is an Expression Letter by Lena, so if you have a problem with it, take it up with her. Also, You have to ask her for permission to copy this, it is copyrighted.

Dear Scissors,

As your blade touches my smooth skin, I remember how I hate myself. Pressuring this robotic body to destroy itself. I cry to the cold air that surrounds me. Reaching out to try and grab ahold of something to bring me back to reality, to comfort me, but all I feel is your cool steel blade. Your Blade brings back all the reminders of hate. I cry to nothing. I rely on othing. I am nothing. I ask for a Savior, but have not had one delivered to me. I've given up on trying to find the joy of life. The core of world happiness. I've searched for way to many heartless nights, hoping to run into it. But I never seem to trip in the right places. I cry to nothing once again. Waiting. Waiting for that nothing to turn into something. And I suppose I shall wait till the end of my days waiting and looking. I've given up on this so called life. I'm calling the driver, telling him to let me off at Forgotten Lane. And there I shall remain. Where the rain never stops. Where the pain never leaves. And I shall walk to number 997 Padded Cell, where my heart is at. And there I shall remain staring at myself in my own Mind's Eye.

Somebody Took My Tongue,
Spider sad


Thanks For Letting Me Use That Lena...i know the feeling stare , claudia ~ heart ~