It's more than just constant worry,
It's fear.

The fear of the small things,
Did I leave the oven on?
Did I lock the door?
Do my socks match?

The fear of the big things,
Does he love me?
Am I annoying?
Is somebody following me?

The fear of seemingly impossible things,
What if somebody shoots up the school?
What if I die today from a meteor?
Are there robot overlords?

The fear of unfortunate possible things,
What if If I don't have exact change?
I don't know how to answer this question, what if the teacher calls on me?
I cant stop loving him, even though he probably doesn't know I exist

It is more than a constant worry,
It's fear.

Why
Do we take
The best parts of us
And give them to others
Only so they can destroy us

Why
Do we put
Our happiness
In someone else's hands
Only so they can crush it to pieces

Why
Do we give
Everything we have
To people who don't even
Give a **** about our existence

Why
Do we allow
Our feelings to be played with
And complain
When we get hurt

Why
After all this
Do we still choose to love?

i failed once again
my impulses take control
i find no reason to fight it
i fell like ive lost it all

the demons
come creeping back in
they help me pick up the razor
and put it against my skin

one little line
soon becomes more
its not long before
the drips hit the floor

im falling down
back into old habits
its a neverending fall
into neverending pits

it's time for me to go now
the gashes need to heal
ive been torn and torn myself up
none of this seems real