I don't even feel like a real person, I'm just watching my life go by from a third person perspective. One day I'm going to wake up and realize I'm 50 and that no one has truly loved me in my lifetime.

One of saddest thoughts stems from how much blood seeps from my clothes in the wash, because I can't love myself even though god knows I've tried.

I'm a complete and total fool for thinking I was anything more. I guess it's all my fault anyway. I thought I could hear through your silence. I thought your breaths were more than whispers as you slept. You sold yourself to me and I blindly fell into you. I didn't even stop to think that I might be too ordinary.

If there was a time to realize how utterly alone I am, it's when I fall asleep to the cold side of my bed, shivering from how empty I feel.

There are times when I just want to destroy myself and cease to exist, but ******* it I just can't do it, because one day you might love me.
And one day I may not see that crooked smile you have when you laugh or feel how your hand rests on my thigh when we're together. One of the best nights of my life was when you cuddled my thighs and told me about how afraid you were of waking up without love for the person you shared your bed with.

And as much as I loathe myself or depreciate who I am as a person, nothing to me would be as cruel, than to take you away from me. Because when I'm at work smoking my last cigarette of my shift and you ask me how my day was, I've never felt so genuinely content in my life, knowing that someone like you cares about me.

There are times when I can feel my whole being sink through the tar that consumes my thoughts, an everlasting substance that surfaced when I was 14. One that I drowned in when I was 16. My stomach spends weeks churning within my body, threatening to throw bile to the back of my throat, and hot tears to my eyes. I can't inhale sharp enough to relieve the taste from my mouth. This cigarette doesn't do it justice.

There are times when I've decided that existing as a conscious being takes too much effort, and it would be so easy to wither away. Would value would spring forth from me while I seeped into the bed which I made?

I've watched you slip past me in a thousand lifetimes, and I still won't get this right.

My head is pounding with thoughts of your ex love, I see her face, perfect. Being haunted by my past has become so familiar when you're someone like me. There are no noises to drown out your own thoughts,. The flutter of my heart when I think of how you kiss my head before you go to work.

Except finding myself alone at night.
Luminescent screens projected within myself can't fill the void you opened in me.
I've never thought I could sink lower,
than bottom.

It's a ****** time in the morning to miss your warmth, because it was a habit and not a necessity. Like the attention you gave me.
The kiss on the head.
The kiss on the hand.
No matter how hard I scratch my skin, you still linger on me. I'm choking on the smell of you.
Anger boils up inside me till I can't see straight anymore, and I think of the time you told me you were "force fed" scotch and it had killed you, but you were sorry.
You're never sorry and I am too tired to live with the fact that you're guilty.

" I was still there when you left me."

I'm getting flooded with memories of the night I drank a half gallon of Sangria. I stumbled around the apartment trying to find pieces of you.
I watched the stars in the chair you lived in on the deck. Burning my throat with your Marb Reds.

I honest to god wish I could get over you. But some piece of me is stuck. I take one step and you throw me five back.

Smoking a cigarette out my window, checking my instagram.  Everything is so boring, but your face in my feed still haunts me.  I swear to god I'm Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.  Your name rings bells in my head that signal there was something more. I'm receding in my feelings for you, and it's a saving grace cause I'm tired of searching for something that's not there.

I'm losing myself in other's smiles and laughs and they way they tell me their favorite things, and I'm thinking I'm finally enjoying life. But I'm reflecting on the warmth of your body compared to his as he snores into my back and how I've never heard anything so annoying because your breaths were whispers. I'm comparing his arms as they rest across my body and how they're shorter. His fingers are not the right length to envelop my hands.

I'm so very sick of you eating away at my brain, but I can finally see the light at the end of the tunnel you forced me into because for a moment, you were the most beautiful and perfect human being I could have ever spent time with.

I don't want to say I hope we can be friends because my stomach drops when I see you, and my heart hurts when I think back to the nights I spent snuggled under your arms. I don't love you.

Sometimes things just don't work out. They are there for a fleeting moment, and things change and people change. I guess I just have to appreciate the fact that you wanted to spend time with me, that for once someone needed me to be there with them. I guess it's whatever, but I hope one day, you might realize that I was there, and I was going to be there for you for as long as you needed.