on the surface there is skin. there are cuts, there are bruises, there is dry hands and scaly hearts and bags under eyes too round and too obvious. there are bracelets there are memories there are necklaces there is cover up there are flaws there are pimples there is a mask.

you cannot fix what you do not know is behind me. you cannot fix what is underneath my heart, what is underneath that skin that you think is so beautiful because when i was young i was taught that make up can help you hide and boy is that what i need. you cannot fix my mind, you cannot fix memories, and you can certainly never replace them. you can fill my mouth with words whispered in scarce breaths about love and about pain and about passion and about depression but there will never truly be that i get it that we are all looking for.

i cannot fix what i do not know is there, either. you can grab out but i'm a bad decision and you shouldn't rely on me to fix you or save your life because i have the blood of an animal that has learned to fend for itself, and sure you say all the time rely on yourself but you also reach out to me in times when i do not know how to do that and that scares me.

there's a breaking point; the point where it becomes uncomfortable. there is a point when the romantic falling stops and when the concrete hits and the wall builds back up and you become deserted in my heart, and that moment is here and even though you seem well worth it for me to build the wall back down i don't know if i can do that quite yet. i don't know if i can do that ever...

stop while you're ahead is what they tell me and what i think i should say but instead i remain silent and drown in the pool of laughter than i'm emitting from a mouth so numb it forgot how to speak again because i was taught that if you have nothing nice to say don't say it and i don't want to hurt you so i just shut myself down because i would rather hurt myself and i'm confused and scared and over-think and worried


false promises never got me anywhere