if you can read this, then you're too close
my loving passion has turned to a ghost
my heart became so cold that it froze
if you can read this, then you're too close

if you can read this, then you're too close
i need a love that **** then goes
love is suffering, while in it's throes
if you can read this, then you're too close

You could find someone better, trust me I'm someone who hides their feelings beneath their sweaters I'm a distanced person who spaces out even in the moments that are most important. My anxiety keeps me from saying the things that I want to blurt out so badly but cannot because of the words that others will slap down on me. Trust me I'm not someone to stand beside. Toxicity engulfs me often I'm barely pushing through this sticky path that was created out of hate my anxiety is always entertained do you not understand the pain that these people have caused me to feel!?
Insane.
I always thought I was, because my thoughts often turned from happy to horrific once something bad had been said, well what did you expect?! For me to be perfectly happy afterwords and forgive you as if you had never meant the words that twisted and slurred around in my mind, ******* it's about time you learned your place bullying is not something that can be accepted so easily so stop doing it for ***** sake I cannot begin to describe the way I hated myself for so long! I'm damaged even now from back then and it's been so long! I know you don't give not one single ****. It's depressing really, how empty I had and have felt because of you..
Let me try to define this kind of pain for you since I know you'd never be able to handle the things that went through my mind after what you had caused me to feel. You see I have always been trapped inside of a shell, even when I was very young I was shy but you made it a point to deny it's all in my mind you said to me a billion times but did you know that I was dreaming of dying, drowning, suffocating, nearly injuring myself as the tears would fall down. I was a suicidal case thanks to the things people had forced me to endure you thought it was funny but would you still if you knew how violent I had become towards myself?!
Just try to imagine now, you have a child and will probably have more what will you say to them when they come rushing in through the door, their angering tears slapping down against the floorboards as if they were raindrops will you let them know you were not a victim!? I bet you will lie and tell them something to confide in I hope for their sake you do because if I knew that my parents caused others to feel such ways well ******* I bet I'd have went insane knowing I was living in the same house as a perpetrator. *How could you do that, mother!?

Always wanted , to be closer
Always wanted to love you more
Always given you my blood.

Always been drained of my blood
Always been loved to be used by you
Always Push away to be close to nothing

I thought of you in which thought should not be invested
Thinking the best dreams of innocent loyalty
Thinking of what you can see what I can give and show

Knowing that I have no looks, heart, or personality to you
Invisible , I know, yet popular with others, but not in you
knowing I do have more body parts than the fingers that hold money.

I am more than money, I know and I think, I have the heart of gold,
with knowledge that I have soul and personality, and and I know you are without the values.

Always thinking, I can do better, than to lose my freedom and sanity over you. I lost it all, basically in thought of you.
Always known I could be better, but love from me is real.

Always jaded in you, and of you. always death of the old me.

You don't know how I feel,
How could you possibly?
My attention you steal;
When it was never yours to keep.

A thief in the night,
You've come to take my heart.
You gave me some light
But not enough; it's still dark.

I'm feeling so jaded,
I love you so much
I almost hate it.

You've driven me down
Just to build me back up.
At the end of the day
Still all I want is your love.

I lived in a refrigerator
from 1969 till now
It was cool to say the least
(It was cool to say the least)

Man, I've sat
hands folded, chillin'
in a ziplock bag like a lump of mud.
Everyone else was picked out
peeled and fried and ******
everyone else
died, in the mouths of their
lovers, or perhaps it was rapists,
the bedroom, the kitchen --
I see no difference from where I am a-sittin'.

Oh, the refrigerator,
oh, my
real-life satire-of-society
you make me want to be eaten
but you make being eaten so
much like death in the eye.
and I
don't know.

Why.

I like to believe
I am more than a sack of goo to be tossed down the throat
I pretend to breathe
like the refrigerator
I fist-banged on that hard as wood center
between my ******* like a man-gorilla
I was told that's where my heart lives
all cozy-sweet in my chest, oozing out love fresh
like vanilla, but losin' flavor
every second, every day
(every second of every day)

Why does it feel so far away?
Why does everything I want to know
feel far away?
Everything I want is in a *** boiling.
Everything I want is in a ***
boiling two houses away.
Everything I want is inside someone else's mouth.
Won't you wait for me. Give my
pouch a squeeze. I'm spoiling. I'm
only
runnin' on borrowed air, the electricity
of the refrigerator
is the only thing that holds me, and it is always
chilly.

Yes, I want pity. And what's worse, I want it
however you'll have me.
But first.
I wanna stick my finger through
right into my heart blood
And break off a piece to
chew before anyone else does

It would be cool to say the least
(It would be cool to say the least)

I lived in a refrigerator anyhow because
when I was 13 I looked in the mirror
and straight-dead knew
my place in the refrigerator
cheeks wrapped in plastic sheets
body-fat wired in lingerie like ham to-go
served hot on Thanksgiving Day tablecloth lace
(Watch half the male population get out their knives
and pour gravy
all over my baked face)

I understand there's some new age
concern that I'll just
waste in the
refrigerator
but man, I am a product and I am made
to be consumed
and the refrigerator
has been the only one there
to keep me.

And if it's a ****-box, I owe it my life then
in the name of my country, the economy,
and world peace, here I am.
Late 30's, about to expire in the refrigerator
Everything I want is fuzzy and far, always
two houses away
Everything I want reaches its hand to the thing sitting next to me.
Everything I shared hopes with has succumbed to mold
I figured I would help society by making room
and be the one to slay the beast
(Drop your conviction and join the feast.)

Like a child's first steps, I begin to trust, rely and give in.
Later on there will be hard times; I will fall on the ground.
I'll become vulnerable and childlike,
and need the assurance of a helping hand.
We need those first steps,
while it's exciting and new,
before we are jaded and unwilling
And we sit down.

Don't revisit old love,
There's a reason that it didn't happen,
Maybe you were too young, maybe you lost compassion, maybe it lost it's magic but it's something you should never go back to,
Especially if it hurt, especially if it ended with words that destroyed self esteem and composure and taught you to learn how to thrive by yourself, without the touch of their skin, without the feel of their lips, without the worry of how their drinking is affecting their health, and the way they react, and the way you react to how they injure themselves,
So climb away when its over and they've left you on your knees, after attacking your ribcage while you ask them to stop and you plead that this lacks meaning and you've torn us apart, caring too much for pointless opinions and not enough for what fell asleep in your arms,
And my body is caving, from all the disdain and the way that I linger on things that have faded, I'm jaded and faking the smile on my face, while I'm really just sick, no I'm twisted up like vines but I'm rotting, and rotting my mind with thoughts and reactions that stem from chemical distraction,
I'm laughing but really it's an act, I'm alone now, and that's okay, I think I'll keep it that way.

The beautiful clockwork
and mechanical silence.
Boredom broken by nature,
nature broken by violence.

As time tics by
and we feel so jaded.
The growing urge to defy,
the urge seems so faded.

Repetitive motions
fill up life.
Ancient drumbeats
leading eternal strife.

The omnipresent struggle
presents the status quo.
To break the flow or go with it?
The answer we may never know.