I took out my heart, piece by piece
from the bin and you stuck it back
fractured, cello taped, but back in one piece
And I wore it carefully on my sleeve for
them to see you were there for me.

Then it became toxic, what was cute turned into
poison. You grew sick. And I frantically
annoyed you harder, desperate
not to show what fear was driving me.

My naivety, my vain, my egos and my tears
I didn't know whether you liked them
Probably not,
Probably I promised too much to be kept up
All I know is I wouldn't show them to anyone
else, I put a wall for everyone but you to find out
I was a child and you were the plushie
ripped from me, then apart.

I was your Kitty but I am a stray cat without
a home. How can you be a stray cat with all
your diamonds and pearls? They ask.
YSL Black *****. Tiffany Collars. Cartier Bracelets.
I would give them all up.
A kitty will always be a stray cat, when without your love as her armor.

I am still the same person
under the breakdowns,
                              makeups
   and everything in between.

I need you.
Now more than ever, as cliché as it is to say.
Before I might've been heartbroken or felt torn down, but this is true pain. I can't even ******* talk
Because I'm not fighting against some bully, *****, my hypocritical parents.
I am figuratively literally fighting myself.

I can't explain it but there's a part of me that loves the sorrow.
He loves being hurt, angry, and alone. And it's like the more I fight the stronger he gets.
the more I try not to be alone the lonelier I get
the more I try to fix how I look the more I stand out
the more I try to tell myself nothing's wrong with me the more convinced of my insanity I become
To the point where I'm starting to believe the ******* he's selling.

I mean for ****'s sake I'm writing to you, nothing but an image in my head.
I don't know if I'm being hopeless when I say that,
I know in my heart you don't exist and you're never coming.
BECAUSE YOU NEVER ******* DO.
you're not the first.
This isn't even the forty-second time I'm making up some imaginary person, to be my coping mechanism.
I AM ALONE. Always have been.
Everything I believe in tells me there's only one me so how could I be so ******* stupid as to believe that you exist?
Almost a clone of me, but of the opposite gender;
now that I'm saying it I realize how insane it is to think.

And it really does make me insane doesn't it.
Because I actually am doing the same thing over and over expecting something new to happen.
I keep believing someone out there knows and can help with my specific situation and and and
after the situation resolves itself you just leave my mind forever.
Last night, I was so convinced that I needed you that I actually felt another human's pain.
When I cried, I felt like someone else, at that moment, felt what I felt.
But hey I believe in talking snakes, pregnant virgins, and magical Jews
so how is someone else feeling this pain so far fetched?
simple,
because I'm alone