i have no idea what to do.
i am so lost.
last time i was in this situation,
i pulled away and realized how little she cared.
i do not want to realize the same about you.
but i can't make it work for both of us.
-
i told him.
i know that i said i wouldn't.
i had to get his advice.
he said to break it off and pull away.
he said you'd snap back.
but i can't believe him for a second.
-
im sorry.
i am torn between hoping you see this
and hoping you never do.
this has to be done and i hate this so much.
im sorry.
but i know i will be sorry.
-
when she started giving me resistance,
when i was clearly more in it that she was,
i pulled away.
i tried getting close to her again and she was stuck.
i had changed so much.
but the part of me that loved her stayed the same.
-
this isn't you and her fighting each other.
it's you and me.

my feet are slipping again.
(you say you just like to  disappear, you hate texting.)
I just have two ways to go.
(I knew this was a mistake.)
I can't fall for you, so I'll fall from you.
(I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry)
(I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry)

I cannot make this work without your help.
it's a whole lot like a school project; I'm the straight a valedictorian 4.0 and you're the sports star only in school so you can wear a jersey I am not a jersey to be worn.
when the project takes a turn towards sports you're interested but I do everyone else and I picked you as my partner after seeing what you can do I bring up the project you pale away you ignore me.
I cannot make this work without help and it hurts me that I can't have you.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.

many times, when you run through someones thoughts, you know why you are there.
i know i am in my best friends thoughts because she worries about me.
i know i am in my grandmothers thoughts because she worries about everyone.
why am i in your thoughts?
what makes you hate me?
i have said a handful of words to you and now my crush and i are your favourite targets.
you barely know me, and yet i apparently disgust you.
well, maybe the repulsion you feel upon hearing my lower timbre voice, my lower timbre instrument, maybe the repulsion you feel upon seeing my too big waistline, my too big ***, my too big face with too little makeup on it, maybe all those awful feelings would vanish if you knew me.
i bet if you took time to dive into a lake, you could find gold at the bottom.
even if the top makes you wanna **** yourself.

shoot arrows with those hurtful words at me.
fire bullets with those laughs.
just know that the best marksmen never shoot at the biggest targets.

am I truly that evil?
comparable to relentless bullies,
the ones that you embody.

am I that awful?
like looking in mirror
seeing a body you despise.

am I that annoying?
like the voice of depression
that sounds a lot like you.

We are critical.

We find flaws in
everything we see
because nobody
wants to write
about perfection,
even though sometimes
we wish we could just stay
staring into that
unblemished surface.

2. We are never satisfied.

We live our lives upon
mountains of
scrunched up
bits of refill and
ideas we gave up
trying to
express.

3. We never forget.

We write words about
eye contact made
three months ago
that we replay over
and over in our minds
even though it
stopped
being relevant.

4. We are fickle.**

Our emotions flash
from one
to the other
like strobe lighting that
disorientates us
until we feel as if
the world
will never be still.

5. We are exposed.

We don't know how
to keep our feelings
to ourselves so
we'll write them
down for
you to find
'accidentally'.

6. We are vulnerable.

We wear our
hearts on our sleeves
and won't lift a
muscle to fight back
if somebody tries
to break it
because we thrive
from the pain.

7. We will never stop.

We will never stop
feeling and
we will never stop
hurting,
we will never stop
breaking and
bleeding and
loving
even though the cycle
is endless
and we know what's
coming next.


We are addicted
to agony,
but we agonise
for the art.