Naught but mockery.

In the back of my mind,
I've always recognised why
Why all those nights,
I fought sleep,
Why all those days,
Appetite didn't come.

Didn't sleep again last night.

And I rose from bed,
reluctant as ever to return
to a heart-torturing reality.

The hot scalding shower,
wasn't hot enough.
And when it was,
I closed my eyes,
Calm reigning my soul.

I walked the streets,
Drizzle of rain splattering on my face,
It was as though everything was fine,
Yet everything wasn't.

I felt everything wrong,
But everything was right.

I, I,
I wanted to stand
in the middle of that street,
And await an incoming car.

Nothing in me protested,
Except for the mind,
the god fearing mind.

My heart was silent,
eerily calm.

I hailed a cab,
got to school like
everything was fine,
But the emotions on my face
probably couldn't lie.

All bottled up,
in a bright corner I sat,
just wanting to let it all out.

Yet again,
The heart-torturing reality interferes.

*Figured, why I never was a fan.

ignore the words
that scatter through my mouth

instead let me paint you a story across your lips
my tongue is the paintbrush that will reveal the secrets behind my scars

let me inhale the life that is within you
let our breath become one, allow my heart to finally steady

let's explore the rythm of each others' bodies
and i'll sing you the song that i can't ever remember the words to

instead of bleeding, let's exhaust our lust
and sweat out the bleakness that dominates our hours of the night

taste the desires that linger within the gaze of my eyes
they speak more than my words can ever say

They're all moving on.
Better lives,
Better them.

I'm happy,
for them.

Yet I can't help,
but despair.

Who's gonna pull me out?

None but I.

But for the life of me,
I can't bring myself to.

Help,
for I'm sinking deeper.

Help,
for I can't help myself.

Help,
for this self-pity to end.

None that knows this misery,
for it'll be they who hurt.

Enough that I'm the only,
left in a destructive shell.

Time after time,
I thought I'm moving,
finally,
to a peaceful,
healthier life.

Time and again,
I fall back,
into this pit of darkness,
as though screaming,
yet unheard.

It hurts,
to know none bother,
Or notice.

I beg,
for the day of eternal release.

Being good enough is entirely subjective.

Not knowing,
but understanding,
that you'd never be.

So alone I stand,
record as clean as a babe's.

Not because no one's good enough.
But because I'll never be good enough.

When they leave,
One
By
One,
I never protest.

I watched,
and empathised.

What I have,
everyone has.

What I lack,
anyone can make up for

I only wish for that simple happiness.
Of love.

Yet how can I?

Thus I'm content,
in my halfheartedsoul,
that I will never be anyone's cup of tea;
should never be.

They deserve better,
much better,
but I just can't help myself,
from thinking,
if.