Dear diary;
Today I came to
the realization that
I can probably count on one hand
the people who know anything
about me in real life.
If you are reading this,
I doubt you're
one of them.

Eu sou o vazio
As estrelas e o fim do mundo
Eu sou o nada
Que engole o nada
Eu sou o vazio
Que não tem início nem fim
Eu sou o nada
O nada absoluto
Eu sou o vazio
A escuridão mais escura
Eu sou o nada
A parte mais vazia de mim
Eu sou o vazio
Meu corpo inteiro é nada
Eu sou o nada
Minha vida é toda de vidro
Eu sou o vazio
O universo saiu de mim (me abandonou)
Eu sou o nada
E agora estou sozinho.

Unresponsive
Silence aching in the pit of my stomach boiling the blood beneath my skin
Raging chaos
Weeping solitude until I fall asleep awaiting an explanation
Shaken glory
Magnifies in the heat of some miscommunication, lack of trust slithering out within each insult
Always trying to defy the laws of gravity
Unable to admit there are no such thing as superheros, magic wands, or even luck
I am bulimic to love and lust and all things good
Allergic to kindness and appreciating and all things right
I always get left in the middle, asking myself
What the hell is wrong with me