i'm so sick in the head i couldn't get out of bed this morning. and all i want to do is turn this sinking feeling that's screaming, "worthless, worthless, worthless" into an art that makes your breath hitch and your eyes swell with tears because it's so ******* beautiful. i want everyone i know to feel proud that they knew me and not ashamed or embarrassed. i want everyone i once knew to swell with pride at the thought that i overcame everything and i became someone else. i want to be like morrissey or ian curtis or sylvia plath. (is there no way out of the mind?) i want to be every cliche you could possibly imagine. i want my words to settle in your soul and make their home there and never leave until the day you die. i want my words to be the cloud you live on when you die.

i want to bury you in words.

it's reached that point where i know that i'm insane but i don't know what to do about it. i hardly even know who i am or where i am or what i'm doing or why i'm doing it and am i dreaming? when's the last time i slept? when's the last time i was okay? are you okay? are we going to be okay? do you love me? is this love? how soon is now? i am sinking further and further into this sea of depressionanxietyinsomnianeurosis. and no one has noticed. but i'm okay when i'm with them or when i'm talking to you or when i'm talking to her but i hate being this dependent because i'll just be left alone again and god no i can't stand being left alone not after what happened last time please don't let me be alone.

depeche mode.

i'm so crazy i'm not even sure i'm real anymore. i need someone to reach out and touch me and tell me that they feel the skin and my racing pulse beating in time with the music and promise me i'm not made out of porcelain. but i need someone i trust because i am paranoid of liars.

trust issues.

you promised you wouldn't leave. you told me i was everything to you. you said i was your best friend and you trusted me. and then you left. you left me for something more important. you left me and you said you were happy so i guess i have no right to be angry. not if you're happy. your happiness is the bane of my miserableness. and how ******* pathetic is that? i mean, really, i'm not miserable because you're happy. i'm miserable because y o u b r o k e m e to be happy.

you, just like a dream.

and i guess i can't really be upset but i guess i thought i was a little more to you than what i was (even though you gave me no reason to believe so) and i guess i wan you to feel as tragic as i do and maybe that's crazy to want someone to be sad but i don't want you to be sad i just want you to care about me and i don't want you to love anyone else and maybe i'm nothing and my skin is scarred and i could never make you laugh but i'm sorry i really am i just wanted you to be happy but i guess what i really wanted was for you to be happy with me and i wasn't capable of that and i let you down so i'm sorry, again, for being too much but also not being enough.

love will tear us apart again.

                            f u          ck        i  t
                                                                   a *ll