Stop. Please. Can't you see at all how this could hurt me?
Underneath this broken frame there is a beating heart. And you're not helping.
Rage is a very despicable feeling. I don't like it.
Very near talking. Spilling. Overloading. It almost feels right.
I** know not why these feelings persist. They are ghosts and I am going to exercise them.
Valiant efforts are useless. Hatred and sadness always win. Always.
And no amount of love I bring, I'm always afraid of the hate my heart brings.
Love is a myth. You will never feel it. Nor will I. Give up.

Everything about you makes me sick. I can't stand feeling this way.
Never did I think this would happen. These thoughts would come back. They were gone.
Deliver me from this darkness. I beg you. Bring me forth from the shadows.
Stop. Please. Can't you see at all how this could hurt me?