It seems i have a distorted way of thinking.
No matter how badly i want to be worthy of love,
I just feel so ******* worthless.
I probably am, since you broke me.
I've been trying to be who i was before you tore my heart out of my chest.
But i'm too far gone, past the point of just a mess.
Am i even a person anymore?
I guess biologically speaking, but the depth of my mind is withering away.
No longer caring about the fabric of my own existence.
Instead of my former seemingly carefree days,
I've been going through periods of pure nothingness, wanting to wish myself out of existence.
Periods of pure agony, and crushing grief.
Moments of immense regret.
And times of unspeakable anger.
All the good is being ****** out of me.
Maybe i never had any of my own.
Maybe i was just borrowing theirs.
I know i need a savior.
But it's probably not part of my fate.
I know, i'm always too late.
I just wish i could change my fate.
Or even just have a happy couple of days.
Why does it always have to be about love?
I guess i should have learned to love myself, back when i was almost enough.