I'm coming to realize that selfishness courses through the veins of others like a river of red, and I'm a foolish child flailing against that forever flowing current.

Life comes naturally to the unnatural, it comes as easy as a sound to the ones who don't give a ****.

Want to pretend like I'm having some sort of Revelation. But I still feel alone, I'm still holding back my anger, and my urge to curl my hands into fists, my urge to leave behind everyone and leave myself royally *******. I want to destroy myself entirely.

The sounds keeping me up at night, these imaginary sounds. Her bed moving, her lips smacking, those rough hands grazing her skin. God, don't let this thunderstorm end, or these sounds will drive me insane. Let me even be smite, burst these eardrums so that they may never hear again.

I'm not asking you to be mine for the rest of our lives. But can you be mine one day at a time, maybe even one night?

People are real, no matter whether people believe that life isn't real, a *****, or too real. Sleeping through reality, forgetting, **** that.

What does it matter that I'm good . I'll never be alright with who I am, what I want is only a dream. And the ones that I love are as real as life will ever be.