I love you. and I'm afraid. I love you. and I am ashamed. I love you. and Cupid has bad aim. I love you and I feel stupid. is this all a dream? maybe the type known as lucid. loving you is unhealthy because you don't see me the same. loving you is scary, on the contrary loving you drives me to insanity but yet you are my clarity. your words taunt me like a game quietly whispering in my ear in the night to come and play. this love is toxic this love is sick. it isn't even love. maybe an obsession. unhealthy
I knew a girl who had a friend that came in many different forms. her friend was small sleek and silver. her friend helped her draw when she was sad and frustrated though her friend was small and delicate, the pictures seemed to be deep and detailed. her drawings sometimes tell a story and sometimes have patterns. they can even say words her friend was silver but every picture came out red. some with a deeper meaning the shades of red differ from picture to picture she hasn't seen her friend in a while. she thinks he has gone away she said he doesn't help draw pictures anymore she said he doesn't help with much of anything anymore. "Good." I tell her "He wasn't much of a friend anyway."
it was his charm it was his demeanor it was his dashing looks his intellect that first caught my attention. most importantly, it was his words. . . his words when spoken seemed to be complementing me his words. . . when spoken, seemed to draw me in further and further deeper and deeper, until I was hooked. his words. . . which tasted like the sweetest of nectar turned out to be poison dripping from his pink padded lips. I should be used to this it was all the same the same old game now I'm left here with my heart broken again.
don't shut down don't shut yourself off when you shut down and shut yourself off you become out of touch with reality and out of touch with your emotions then you're stuck pouring cheap alcohol down your throat gagging on pills prying your veins open and sitting in a pool of your own blood because you snapped scrambling trying to find the answers on how to feel again
they say misery loves company one would find joy in knowing that others are just as unhappy as they one would generally want to overcome depression & misery escape the treacherous & unforgiving sorrows but yet somehow..some way I have grown comfortable comfortable with misery comfortable with depression comfortable with the madness of sorrows comfortable with pain I've grown immune - almost numb to the darkness to the pain it's as if the light never shines or maybe I just do not allow it sadness & darkness are like cousins & have made themselves at home here they have become such a comfortable state comfortable like a cashmere sweater draped across my shoulders to protect me from the cold protect me from the unknown but something that was once used for protection quickly turned into something horrid & threatening no longer draping across my shoulders, rather causing me to drown without sinking or dying but how can something so dark.. treacherous & evil even consider to be "comfortable?" how did sadness & darkness become so comfortable? how can one be afraid of happiness? I guess it's because I am afraid of the unknown terrified of reaching out I remain in this "comfortable" state watching others get caught up by this seemingly alluring comfort of happiness and hoping it will soon find me worthy and take me upon its grasp into a new journey of comfort