I told you I would never give up
I never did give up.


I love you just as much as i did 2160 days ago.
But you gave up on me,
on us.
You shunned away your feelings
and now you don't feel it anymore.

You don't feel anything anymore.


I can't blame you.


Love is a beautiful cluster-**** of emotions,
but at the end of the day
when your insomnia begins
darkness fills your somber heart
and you question love.


But I do love you.
More than you could ever possibly comprehend.

But, that doesn't matter
because my personality and clothing choice,
will never make up for hers.


I want to be what you want me to be,
but no matter how hard I try,
I Cannot be her.


There is no amount of pastel makeup,
and sparkly shirts,
that will make me her.


I could obtain her exact wardrobe,
and hair color,
and that dumb laugh she uses,
when she makes fun and jokes.


But, I could never be her, ever.


I somehow hurt you,
I never want to see you cry,
or in pain.


To this day I Cannot Believe that I somehow managed,
to hurt someone so perfect,
and so genuine,
and innocent.


I just want to show you that I never meant hurt you like that.


But you want me to be her,
and I'm sorry but that is the one thing I cannot do for You.

My hands are dying,
My heart is seized,
and my mind is chaos.

What that means for my future,
Now, that I have no clue.
All I can repeatedly think of
is one single, solitary word.

Why?

N.N.B

When the day is gone,
There is no more light,

You are all and not.

I hear nothing,
I see everything,
and yet,
all I feel is static.

Nothing,
absolutely nothing, makes sense
or has the same meaning
from one moment to another.

Fear,
Anger,
Mock,
is around every corner it seems.

Confusion,
Greif,
Ache,
eventually numbness sets in
and the blood begins to seep.

People fill the room and
soon your eyes feel heavy.
The voices stop,
all but one.
The declaration has been made.
The label has been made.
Sedative begins to set and your body goes still.

The feeling still there,
every molecule every atom.
every slice and every stitch.

The label placed,
and perfectly stitched,
Aftercare is key love, it must not rip.

The nurse stagers over and hands you a mirror.
The restraints released.
Perfectly, permanently placed,
The label you will forever see.