I'm not a poet
I just know pain
And my pain is consuming me now
Every guy that deliberately
Lead me on
Every guy that decided I wasn't worth it
Every friend I no longer talk to
It's empty
My life is a joke
And I no longer feel like laughing
The courage to decide you've had enough
It isn't selfish or cowardly
To think that this life isn't worth living anymore,
That's bravery to me
The slap in the face to realize
I don't have that same backbone
Almost hurts as much as understanding
That I wouldn't even be missed
Can't look at my reflection,
Can't look at guys in the face
My death will never have purpose
Just like my life will never be worthwhile
But I daydream.
Dream about being enough,
About not needing to be loved and admired
By millions of people.
Just him.
To see the color the sun turns his eyes.
To close my eyes and blindly learn
Every inch of his face.
To actually smile,
Just smile at every word he says.
But there is no him.
There is no sun.
No backbone.
There's just....this.
Emptiness.
A void.
A nothingness that consumes my shakey breath,
Tear soaked cheeks and quivering hands.
I can never pick up the pills, the gun, the blade
In the same way
I can never pick up the hint
That I am literally wanted by no one,
Needed by no one,
Desired to be no where.