You know me too well.
And I'm running out of places to hide.
My mouth can't stop talking
When I only wish you would tell me something about yourself.
I wanna get to know you
On a level that no one else has reached
So your mind separates me from all the rest
And let's me in where no one else can go.
I want you to trust me,
Because I care about you so much
It keeps me up at night.
And I have to lye awake and think of
Your eyes, and the look inside them
When I make you smile, the way only I can.
And I confuse myself
Because it seems like I'm already dreaming.
I feel weightless when I'm with you,
Like nothing else matters.
But I'm constantly worrying about how you're doing,
And if I make you happy.
Just wish you would talk to me more
So I could let you inside my head
And think about your laugh and voice before I fall asleep.
But you know me too much.
And I know that doesn't mean as much to you as it does to me.
Still I wish you wanted to know more...
But you fascinate me.
And I wish you wanted me to know more about you.
I just want you to know
That I only want
To make you
*Happy.

Use me.
I am your toy, just a little doll
For you to play with.
You can bend me any way you want.
Spread my legs wide open so you can come inside.
You can *** inside if you like it,
Do whatever you want to me.
Just use me.
Cause my plastic doll heart cannot feel.
And I only want to satisfy you
In all the wrong ways.
You could drag me around on a leash like a dog,
And I'd follow you closely and lay on your lap,
Lick your wounds and be your best friend,
Or maybe just your favorite toy.
So hold me down so I can't escape.
Whisper in my ear that you need me
So you can put all of you inside me,
And take all that's left of me out.
Tell me that you want me
More than any other toy in the chest
And use me until I just fall apart.
Break me.
Cause I'm worn and tired
And you might want a new toy soon if you're bored.
Until then just **** me.
**** me until my entire doll body comes alive,
And ***** you like I need you to use me.
Then just leave me there, lying naked on the floor,
With no place to belong, when I long to be held in your arms.
Tell me you're finished with me.
Then just kick me under your bed,
And forget about me.

Hesitation.
Poetic thoughts to merely strangle an
Otherwise undeveloped expression.
Chaos- dripping profusely from an
Endless flow of illusion.
Imagination? Is this real?
But the good is
SO
Good...
Inspiration.
Claw at the temptation to be
Different.
Something else.
Real.
Because maybe then reality
Could actually make some sense.
But still can't get over the thrill
Of existence
Being nonexistent.
Because it's
So ******* good
To feel unreal.
Why should anything matter-
When nothing is affecting
Anything.
But, knowing, knowledge-
That **** is scary.
Because how can anyone know?
Jesus Christ, the "nothingness" just ******* kills me.
The screaming is melting my brain tissues
And inside my head is just
Black, static sick of explaining the
Discomfort in my head.
Sick of rambling cheap obscurities-
Verbally littering on this ****** up planet
One "word" at a time.
Who the hell cares??
Because
No one
Cares.
Ignorance is considered cherrishable
Because we don't have the *****
To accept reality-
At least maybe I'm just weak.
So why does it even matter?
Redundance- it gets so ******* old.
Feel like something fresh-new-breathable
Could expand at least an experience or two.
Yet it gets so catchy to
Rage warfare on one's self.
****, cause the taste
Is exceptionally harsh.
Texture is only an effect based on perception.
Still, everything is in
Retrograde inversion,
Like my old composition homework assignments-
Only less classy,
And without genius direction.
**** the misunderstanding, man.
That **** will mess with your mind.
But I am in love
With hating to feel,
And everything in between and
Opposite that.
And I couldn't explain anything,
To even give you an idea of what its like.

Blue smoke, jagged line.
Twitch, fix, no concept of time.
Meanings, meaningless notions
World wide apocalypse.
Black smoke, tight, straight, beaded line.
Headache, stomach-scraping, brain-spaced, no reality.
Concepts, comprehension, unfathomable theory.
End of human life.
Words, communication, expression, words words red lines.
Head, thoughts, spaced, stinging throb
Rotting chest, breath, lungs, smoke.
Get a gun, get a rope.
Black, gray, metal, panic, headache not real
Lines
Words
Lines
Words.
Smoke.
Panic, headache.
Confusion.
Time.
Reality, existence.
Fix.
Gun, rope.
**The end.