how many months how many years
will i have to live with such terrifying fear
or is that simply what comes with it
and would a plastic bottle **** it
but do i even want to know

it has only gotten worse.
i am terrified to speak the words aloud,
the guilt consumes me like maggots on a corpse.
i dont know how much longer i should stay or if leaving would even be any better because this is the happiest ive ever felt though i suppose at this point its less which one is better and more which ones less worse.
i mean look at this.
on my own **** paper and its not even original i feel like a puppy dog and i swear i am a real person with my own thoughts and desires a prime example being this completely unbounded feeling of fire that burns with blinding heat i cannot say it i cannot say it i cannot say it
and it destroys me.

i w_rry __u will s__ _nd r__d _nd und_rst_nd _nd s_ i c_ns_r m_ _wn w_rds _n m_ _wn p_g_s, _nd m_ h__rt c_nt_rts; th_ s_rr_w runs d__pl_ in m_ bl__d, i _m sc_r_d it will n_v_r l__v_ m_ v_ins - but lif_ m_v_s\ _n _nd m_ l_v_ f_r __u __t c_rri_s - _nd _ll i h_v_ t_ s__ is s_rr_.

it is to both of you that i say your gaze is drowning -
in different ways but the result is nonetheless the same.
just to glimpse a look is to be ripped by the tide to sea for several days
i dont know what to tell you but i am on my knees on broken glass the eyes are windows to the soul but windows are not enough to hold an ocean. (though do not be mistaken not a drop originated from either of the two of you)
and i will take a shard to my chest
and offer my heart to you then
for what else could i possibly give
for an apology such as this

sitting in sun past locked windowed doors
wrist tendon tensioned from trying tagging for the first time
sometimes it pulls at my sleeve and i cannot predict when it will be, but at least it doesnt drag me like it used to
merely quietly suggesting to tentatively assume that it is true -
and i feel it striking down, rolling over skin, curling at the edge
but i will not give in

patience demanded now
it couldve been worse but i wasnt sure -
looking, and my thoughts are not current
and im sorry and im scared and is it worth it

unsatiated crown
cutting off, its all i know
the only thing i can control
and i worry and i falter
because all thats in my palms are stones

You haberdashery hauberk harangue of a hornswoggling hiatus .  Your arrogantly delusory blasphemous dementia of odiously ominous diabolically grotesque gives me a decadent distraughtness of desultory debauchery and ghastly gnarly abysmal abjections .  It causes hysterical deliriums of maniacally macabre .  My swashbuckling surreptitious spatiotemporal telemetry tactician is tacitly inured in a phantasmagoria fantastication of fabulist façade fantasias .  I could positively kithe a futurity cudgel phantasm and bonkers bluster boggle with your phrenetically frenzied phrenic and forget my phyletic you preterit rendition autonomy equilibrist .