I kneel before you
And give myself up to you .

I beg you for so much
But you give me nought .

I lie prostrate before you
I grovel at your feet .

Is this what i get
For opening up to you ?

Do i crash and burn
Because i believe in you ?

My reward for loving you
And worshiping you like a goddess ...

You are cold like a night at sea ,
For you a chilly and unpredictable .

My goddess who never answers me .
What shall i do ?

In this religion ,
Of constantly worshiping you ?

She was kind. Her smile lit up long lost love letters into pure Lullabies. She was pure. She loved deep and her eyes shone bright. She was the quintessential example of ecstasy in exegesis. The words of war were so worn around us that we carried them as our exigence. So long had we carried on this destructive deconstruction of our misconstrued masochistic connection. We connected in the backseat and in the street but hardly ever over words. She hated me, yet I was all she had. Slowly however, things weren't the same. She fought more and cared less. I knew she didn't love me the first time I found out she had sought herself in someone else's flesh. Those words ripped through me and rent my heart into a thousand infinite fractals swirling around into emptiness because that's what I was. Emptiness. She loved me like a black hole and ****** out my insides until she was sated like a parasite and then she moved on to the next guy. I stuck on however, I thought I could love her, I didn't want to be happy, I wanted to be hers. So slowly I siphoned off my soul to her as she consumed the callous conscience that I slowly succumbed into giving. I wonder if she even thinks of me. I think of what she turned me into. You turned me into you. I consumed lovers and wouldn't stick around to see their rehabilitation. Destruction. Perfect, exceptional destruction. And so I burned, and so we burned, and all those who got close enough to feel the heat from my sparks got incinerated. I was a ticking time bomb of confessions and regrets and mistakes. Then you came in. You broke me. I fell so deep in love I was lost at sea in the ocean of your soul. I swam in the ******* pleasure that was the blue of your eyes. I fell asleep to your voice and never have I felt so connected to a soul who didn't love me back. Your constant edification of this esoteric ecstasy left me so deeply dependent on your love I found myself in a lack of sleep without your sweet symphony of angelic arguments. I fell in love with your toxicity. I fell in love with the pain. Perhaps I don't deserve love. Perhaps I don't deserve happiness. You still love him and not me. I just wish I wasn't so broken. You were kind. But you killed me inside. So here I stand, an empty excuse of a lover. You told me you'd stay for me. Now all you want to do is leave. So here I stand, an empty excuse of a lover. You're leaving me, and in some ways you're taking my soul with you. So here I stand, alone. Alone and Broken and Empty.

I like to believe that I'm stronger than I am.
That I'm braver than I am.

And yet, I fall into cowardice like any other reflex built into my skin.
It's a program the world wanted to overwrite onto my story. Like I didn't have a choice about whether or not I wanted to be miserable.

And I want to be better.
Who doesn't?

I just... fall away. Like it's so easy to give in to what you've been exposed to. No matter how dangerous or vulnerable it makes you.

You just fall.

I drop into a broken conversation, it just ended with an "I'm sorry".

It feels so final.

Like the unsatisfying ending of a story you wish you could rewrite. Like you're in so much control, you'll do anything to keep that control within your grasp.

I didn't want this.

I didn't want the final result I got.
Nothing.

An open road, and being told to just go anywhere.
Anywhere but were you came from.
Leaving home, and not returning to the comfort of the arms that held up your body when it couldn't fight gravity, falling to the ground.

They pick you up like it's the only thing they were ever taught to do.

I wish I told them everything.
I wish I told them how much I could cry.
How it could make an ocean all on its own.

I wish I hugged them more.
Told them they were the best thing that ever happened to me.
Told them that I would drop everything to be there for them.

That I would write songs about them.
That I would write and write and write until we had no more jokes to laugh about.

So, I guess the writing and laughing would never stop.

I wish I said more.

I mean. I wish I said something.

I wish...

I wasn't so afraid of being here.

I was told to go back to them.

I wonder if they'd ever want me back.
After everything.

So how do I go about this sort of deja vu?

Being told that:

"Maybe one "Hello" will flip everything."

Maybe. But I haven't gotten there.

Not yet anyway.

Somebody
            Save me

I think I'm drowning

Sometimes
I don't want to die
I just want to sleep
Until it's over.

But sometimes
I want to die
I just don't want
To **** myself.

Speak up
Stop shaking
This is not part of your character
I'm not mad
I believe you are completely wrong
You continue to believe a lie
Get you hands away from you face, stop shaking, breathe, and say something
I am not causing you anything
If you don't like it here, get out, go live under someone else's roof
You can **** me
I hate that they did this to you
I blame them
I'm not the bad guy
You make me out to be this monster
This is not you
Where is my daughter?

I told you so.

It doesn't really feel good to be right. Everything is *******. I haven't told anybody, but I have a feeling some people will know very soon.

This is killing me. It's Killing ME.

I'm going.
Help me **** it!

I don't want this.
I want a way out.
I want to go home.

But home isn't there anymore.
Home is not here.

And it won't be. Not anytime soon. Maybe not ever.
So I stopped trying to fight the brokenness. Not when I already shattered across the floor.

Every day feels like a public hanging. Accusations and no defence from me. I'm not okay.

So I will not return until I'm better. When that is, I have no idea. It could just never end. I could break and rage out, calling the hypocrisy and justification of how unfair this is.

Don't I deserve to be seen at all?

But if I'm not here, then who really gives a ****?

Fine. I'll let you live your life free of my destruction on your happiness. Because after all, I bring the drama right? And I can't escape it right? Confining me to my mistakes and nothing else.

Because hey, I never meant a **** thing to you anyway. But I won't snap just to prove you right. I'll just hope to regret sets in like it is for me.

Because I never gave up on you.
Fact.
No exceptions.