blank stares fall upon empty eyes
you're pulling at me, pleading, begging, trying to make me sympathize
you never meant it, never tried
only when you're threatened do you meet my eyes
if you think this is it
if you think this is up
try being me, never getting enough.



 

Its easier to see the world
Than the world to see me
Broken
Beaten
Bruised
Its harder to fall when you've already fell
Used
Abused
Hurting
Confusion clouding senses
Liqour burning advances

What loves me, hates me

What nourishes me destroys me

What pleasures me, pains me

Regret never lasts

Dissapointment destroys

All the innoncence lost

Never regained

I never regret

Our little game

Control

Punishment

Power

I long to escape

But...

Addictions

Are

Hard

To

Break

From Love Comes Hate: Chapter 1

Norman Osborn impatiently tapped his fingers on the side of his lavish, mahogany desk. He was getting increasingly annoyed, he was on hold. “On hold!?! My own goddamn company put ME on HOLD?!?” He shouted into the phone, all his patience exhausted.

If anyone had heard, they didn’t rectify the problem. Norman felt close to throwing the phone angrily across the room, if he was kept waiting any longer. He hung up, annoyed, and redialed Dr. Stromm, the scientist he’d put in charge of special projects. The phone rang, and rang. “Stromm, you son of a bitch! Pick up the DAMN phone NOW!!!”

Harry heard the shouting in the other room, whenever his dad was getting closer to closing a business deal, he grew volatile. Recently it’d been magnified.

Harry hesitantly moved closer to his father’s half open door. The shouting had died down, and Harry was momentarily relieved.

“Dad?” Harry cautiously opened the door, catching a glimpse of his father’s disheveled hair. He’d probally been up late again, rattling off figures, and molecular crap. Harry sighed, and tried again. “Dad?”

Norman Osborn swiveled around, anger clouding his face. Harry took a step back, almost tripping over the Persian rug. “Harry, why aren’t you in school?!” Harry began to open his mouth, but his father continued. “You’re old enough to remember. Why the hell aren’t you at school?! Answer me!”

I would if you let me.

Harry looked away from his father’s penetrating ice blue gaze. “Schools are out. Remember Dad?” Norman met his gaze, and seemed lost in thought. “Are you okay? I heard”-

Norman had already turned away, punching in the numbers of one of OsCorp’s head officials. He glanced over his shoulder, as if dismissing Harry. Harry didn’t get the hint, he stood in the doorway, watching his father.

“Finally! Where the hell were you?! I called and called! What did they say?” Norman impatiently ran a hand through his auburn hair.

The only thing we have in common.

Recently, Harry’d spent most of his time with Peter, or MJ. Now that school’s were out, his father found other things to berate him about. He didn’t study hard enough, Peter was still studying in the summer.

Peter, peter, peter. It’s always about you.

Harry leaned up against the wall, listening to his father negotiating with someone. His father loved work. Absolutely adored it, and hated it. Harry hated the fact it pulled him away from him. He was never home, and if he was? Locked in his elaborate study.

Norman Osborn heard something, he swiveled around, noticed Harry still in the doorway. He waved an impatient hand. Harry came closer, misinterpreting his father’s gesture. Norman rolled his eyes. Why was his son so stupid?!

Harry searched his formidable father’s eyes. “Dad?” Norman felt anger growing again. He covered the phone with one hand. “Get out. Leave.” Harry felt himself get up, and gently close the door behind him.

Norman continued, annoyed that Harry would probably start crying. He’s too sensitive. “What did you say, meeting at?”-

Harry blocked out the sound of his father’s voice, and heard the click of the doorknob. He turned around, slightly surprised. His father hadn’t come out, he’d locked it. Harry sighed, trying to block out the coldness in his father’s eyes as he’d dismissed him abruptly.

He’s busy, making money, financing projects. I shouldn’t expect anything.

Even the rationalization in Harry’s mind sounded pathetic. His father never cut Peter off in mid sentence. He actually paid attention, and shut off his phone.

Harry collapsed into the chair, feeling alone. He wished school would start, at least his dad dropped him off, even if he did have to endure the taunts.

In his study, Norman Osborn smiled, so far, everyone was reacting well to his new project. If only it stayed that way…

Revenge

Passion Fuels
Anger Burns
Love Creates
Betrayal Yearns
Taste Sweet
Taste Fresh
Burning Within
Will This Ever Die?
The Desire I Feel Inside?
To Watch The Pain
To Implement The Blame
To Cause The Suffering 
You Tell Me Never Play
The Game You've Played
You Would Know
You've Played
Won
Lost
The Game
You Know
All 
About
Revenge
All
About
Revenge