Don't give me butterflies if you're just going to rip off their wings

I try to be the person to take the photo,

I don't want to be looked at,

I don't want to be remembered,

I like to imagine everyone smiling at me and not the camera.

My heartbeat is a dreadful knocking, as if the devil himself demands entry.

I'm sorry.
I'm sorry I try.
I'm sorry I care too much.
I'm sorry I get too attached.
I'm sorry I put in too much effort.

I'm sorry I can't be who you want me to be.

When you kiss her your hands wrap softly around her neck, but it just feels like your hands are gripping my neck tightly and twisting.

Teeth made entirely of piano keys, mouth gaped open; as if waiting for someone to pound them in.

Like a warm embrace.

You told me "distance makes the heart grow fonder" but now I realize that was a lie, it should have read "distance makes the heart wander"

I am left standing here utterly alone, desolate, addicted to something I never once tasted yet craved, left to dwell in loneliness. I ache and the pain swells until my heart feels I can no longer take it.

I feel the cool silver as it lays across my hands... Thoughts pour in from my ears. Voices I recognize but have never fully heard. The rope lying outside in the rain seems more and more inviting, the pills tasteless and colorful as if they taunt me, the car an escape to everyday people but for me a more permanent one.

My only hope is that I can survive. No not for you. Not for them. They've had their chance, they've condemned me. I want to live for myself. But as the hours grow longer my reasons grow shorter. Who will win in this game of fate. As time ticks by, my mind is made.

I feel trapped under the surface. Clawing my way out, only to receive a few breaths of air, a glimpse of sunlight, the echo of a bird, then I am hurled back under further than before. Yet the lasting memory of the happiness remains. Indeed, it is so strong that it urges me to work and work; believing that one day I will receive the same treatment. And yes it does happen. But the days become fewer, and far less often. Until eventually it stops all together.