Breathe, into me.
Show me the pathway to all that charm you keep locked up inside
     that guarded heart of yours.
Show me all that beauty that I’m dying to see, silently begging to see.
I admire from afar, biding my time, but I know it’s all wasted.
I can’t be what you need.
Wasted time seems to be my specialty, but I don’t want it to be with
     you, my own special brand of splendor.
Wrap me up in the exquisite silk of your warmth and let me know
     what it’s like to be genuinely quiet.
The quiet that only you know how to do.
The quiet that will comfort me in its perfection.

I miss you.
Actually I think I just miss the idea of you, the good times with you.
I am healing, but it is taking so godforsaken long.
I’m addicted to the concept of you, unable to cope without something else to **** me dry, to bleed me dry, to destroy me.
It’s a way to punish myself for losing you.
There must have been some way to make you stay, there must have.
You were everything gold, and now everything I touch withers.
There must be something I can do.
But I’m grasping at straws that have melted with my hatred.
My hatred for you, and my hatred for myself for having chosen such destruction for myself.
I never spoke so clearly as when I told you I loved you.
But now it’s all for none.
I don’t want to say it was all for nothing,
But I also don’t want to say I enjoyed every single moment.
I don’t want to hate anymore, but it consumes me.
I’ve become comfortable with hatred.
I’ve become comfortable with the belief that no one can replace you, at least not yet.
I’ve become comfortable with the belief that everyone will be like you.

Scared.
Shaking.
Can barely breathe.
Tears well up, attempting to break the surface.
Insides getting torn up by mistakes; mine and others.
Regret forms, pouring pain down my throat.
Chest aching, torment cements in an empty stomach.
Needing comfort, but my only resource is dry, dusty, gone.
Stolen.
Ran off.
Want bleeds me cold.
Need ***** me empty.
Pain steals all other feeling.
Tears are needed to cleanse my soul, but I can't find them.
They won't come screaming down my cheeks like I so desperately want.
I just want to wash away all this, wish away all this.
I'm all huddled up,
begging for solace.
begging for some sort of recognition from the universe.
But it won't come.
Not yet.

Break me free of this directionless Hell.
I'm lost inside a prison I made for myself.
I'm crumbling as I want to scream.

A touch is enough for a rush to send me reeling.
I've been wheeling and dealing my way through chaos only to have found Myself knee-deep in it.
I'm dying to get out,
Lying to try to save myself,
And fighting to get to you.
A touch is enough of a rush to send me to Heaven,
Enough of a rush to render me utterly speechless.

What right do you have to be angry with me?
     I was the one that got my heart broken.
What right do you have to be upset with me?
     I was the one that was left.
What right do you have to be hostile with me?
     I was the one that got suffocated.
What right do you have to be unpleasant with me?
     I was the one that was forgotten.

Why did I want you to rescue me last night?
What was going through my mind when I called asking for your number?
I'll never know.
Why did I start crying, lying on that floor, with him all over me, on the phone with him?
Why was I craving your disappointed gaze,
Your angry disapproval,
Your tired recklessness?
Why did I think you actually would come for me?
Why did I want you to feel some emotion towards me, even if it was distaste at my actions?
Why did I want so badly for you to be there for me one last time?
Why didn't I just do it?