Wednesday, April 10, 2013

For the life of Christine.

It was requisite a dog without a name or a fish without water, perhaps a troublesome puerile missy without a friend, without a place to call her home. Its a feeling you want to go away, wizard in which you bait and one in which you pray, but it sticks and sticks homogeneous glue to paper, it sticks and sticks like nothing greater. You try to pull it off but it besides ends up tearing, tearing through everything that youve worked to make right. Its like a molten plastic attached to human flesh. You feel like a neon in a fish tankful being stalked by shark. But who is the shark? For I am Christine.

She, a young girl walks this shadow everyday. slew point, people laugh as she walks down the halls, they dont see her genuine for they only see her faults. They dont call her by name, but instead, thats the girl who got raped. Deep down she wants to cry but like a miracle keeps her head held high, she knows what happened and pulled out that gun she tried to use most one year ago. She was going to finish what she had started.

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This time, no one was around to stop her, which held her beliefs that, no one cares, and no one would notice. With these thoughts in musical theme it made the decision easier, for Christine to pull the trigger.

Helpless and hopeless she looked to the heavens, I dont belong here(predicate) God, I belong in hell, for my helplessness sickens me and I look at no help. She placed that gun to her head and that would be the end.

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