I feel beat and I feel bruised,
I feel broken and ******* used.
Why can't I seem to get it right?
Why can't I seem to find the light?

Emotionless is who I am,
this ain't a joke, this ain't a scam.
I feel one thing of any feeling,
I feel as though I am not healing.

This pain will be the death of me,
and all because you're too blind to see.
My smile won't seem to just shine through,
unless I'm acting out to you.

This morning I'm shattered,
tonight I'm battered,
tomorrow I'm crying,
the next day I'm dying.
I don't want to take it,
but I can't seem to shake it.
It's hard to go with the flow,
from today until tomorrow.

I sit on my bed, awaiting something good.
I dream and wish for the thing I think I should.
A salty rain runs down my cheeks as I beg to god,
and I feel I must rip my chest, to prove I'm not a fraud.

I need to find my laugh again,
I want to have you as my friend.
But if you keep on hurting me,
it won't be possible for you and me.

My anger comes in many ways.
I need some questions answered these days.
I want to know just what I did,
I've a right to know, for I'm no kid.

This morning I'm shattered,
tonight I'm battered.
Tomorrow I'm crying,
the next day I'm dying.
I don't want to take it,
but I can't seem to shake it.
It's hard to go with the flow,
from today until tomorrow.

I want to be done with crying tears for you,
I want to forget everything you put me through.
I'm so sick of feeling broken and bruised,
no longer do I want to be beat and used.
It needs to be easier for me to go with the flow,
I wish it were better for me to know what I know.
My dreams are always being shattered and torn,
and as this keeps happening my hope is starting to be worn.

This morning I'm shattered,
tonight I'm battered.
Tomorrow I'm crying,
the next day I'm dying.
I don't want to take it,
but I can't seem to shake it.
It's hard to go with the flow,
from today until tomorrow.

This morning I'm shattered,
tonight I'm battered.
Tomorrow I'm crying,
the next day I'm dying.
I don't want to take it,
but I can't seem to shake it.
I still can't go with the flow,
from today until tomorrow.

I've gotten it brought to my attention; the subject of change.
It's been requested to know whether it's healthy or not.

Yes?
[No!]


Yes!
[No?]

What ever the answer may be, I'd like to find out.
Stop your pondering, that's my occupation.

You ask the question, let me do the rest.
But where does my investigation begin?

Here. It does here.

Every year,
Every month,
Maybe in whole weeks...
I  make companions, or create a monster of myself and accumulate enemies.

That's not my intention.
I am only human,
and I fathom wishes cannot always be blessed.

I'd like greatly to keep everyone as an appreciated comrade,
alas this cannot always be bestowed.

"Friends" they betray, they lie to authorize other people to hate you.
Then you're spoken to of their rumors and you become distant from one-another.

What do you do?
Give up?
Never.

This change is obviously staunch.
It evidently shows the truth of it all.

Those... traitors, they are not worth any millisecond of your watch.
They are not worth any view of your pupil.
They are not worth an iota to your person.

Those embraces, perhaps, you shared
that maybe were accompanied by grins of merriment...
or apprehension and distress,
they meant nothing.
They were empty achievements that subjected us to change.

Change, there's that lexeme; repeated.
Difference.
Adjustment.
Variation.
Innovation.
Vicissit­ude.

Is it in fact a valuable commodity?

No?
[Yes!]


No!
[Yes?]

I admit;
It is; only in solitary incidents.

Change, this subject was brought to me.
Do you permit this to be the feedback of your confusion?

Breath in deeply; don't you quake.

I'll still be there, when you wake.



Take this smile, take this heart,

keep it safe, we'll never part.



Darling, let me see your soul shine.

When I see it, it's so divine.



It grips my soul and hugs me tight,

it fills me with the brightest delight.



I'll sit there quietly and absorb your voice,

holding each word because it's my choice.



I'll hold you tightly if you need me to,

I'll do anything, anything at all, for you.



You know I love you, you know I care,

and I can't imagine my life without you there.



Friends are forever, pain is not,

darling, confide in me if you feel distraught.



Allies for eternity; I'll stand by your side,

but whether you stay is yours to decide.

A silent voice speaks out to portray the loudest words of unfaithfulness, listening with your eyes to the echoes that bounce off of the walls and wander as agony plays it's favorite harmony in your head requesting the simplest iota of pain to make you live in shear insanity. Breathe quietly or the next sharp breath you take will be in vain for you will then fear your lungs are collapsing. The next throb of your heart will be the shattering of the glass ***** so strong and yet so frail. Your emotions will drain through your tears and screams as you ache to feel whole again. Until you've reached the point where all seems silent inside of you but you know your gears are still turning like those of a broken robot. You ache to quiet them for good so you take the barrel and make it roll. A loud, skull cracking noise clutters the air as your gears become blocked enough to cease and cause you to fall into a disintegrating mess. Bye, bye beautiful...

The writer is scribbling with an act of such passion,
but ideas can run out in an untimely fashion.
Ecstasy in fingers only lasting so long,
a poem in composition, some kind of song.
It won't be forever until I have you where I want,
soon you'll be mine. [You'll be mine.] Mine to flaunt.

Your lips against mine, a show between lovers,
those words are unspoken; letters read between covers
of a book that has barely been touched,
but in the hands of my other is where they are clutched.
I'll let them be vocalized,
fly and flitter like butterflies.
A hopeless romantic with a great deal of gratitude,
if the reactions I get are of the right attitude.

In the end I really can't help how I feel,
the emotions I have are far from unreal.
I'm told to follow my heart to see what is true,
therefore here I am following the road to you.
It might be quite a distance, a difficult strife,
but I've experienced plenty of those in my life.

It's funny how just words can make me love you more,
I don't really believe I've felt so ecstatic in someone's presence before.
Even a whisper from you can make my cheeks flush.
A smile covers my lips, it was caused by my affectionate crush.
Now, it won't be forever until I have you where I want,
soon you'll be mine. [You'll be mine.] Mine to flaunt.

She was forgotten in the depths of her despair.
Could you remember her like this with a sadistic grin on your lips?

It's a melancholy thought:
She stares at you with depression clouding her eyes. You push off, running from her even further than you ever have before. You hear a cry of desperation in the distance and a shot, a thud, a crash to concrete, and echoes of breaking bones shattering through the air. You keep running, you don't look back. Blood-curdling screams tear the distance between you and her.
You reach your destination, you look in the mirror. In your hands you hold a pistol and a hammer. You drop them, the tile cracking with contact of the lethal weapons.

She was forgotten  in the depths of her despair.
By you, nonetheless.
Do you remember now?

I see that smirk crawl upon your lips behind those rusting bars. You killed her with no reason but to pleasure your mind. Then again, here's the fun part: She's recovering in a hospital somewhere, and here you are receiving your own death sentence. Who's smiling now?

I forgot to remember the memories we shared once upon a dream. The bullets of your love dropped from my life and onto the ground for another to pick up. The blade that showed my greatest regrets tore through my life again as it had before. Dripping, liquid crimson are words that were left unsaid.
The melancholy echo and recollection of your voice that was once so abundant in volume leaving my brain feeling claustrophobic in stature. A hollowed out chest waiting to be filled again with a heart so tattered or worn into pieces from careless gandering. Forsaken am I to you with no better word than "broken" to fill the answer of caring for my well being.
Unexpected twists will wriggle and writhe their way between my adolescent fingers. Remembrance, it arrives in a drop of a moment, barrelling thoughts through my head like a machine gun or a wood pecker at work. A malfunctioning, homosapien-resembling robot is what I seem to be, to myself lest no others believe it. I feel who I am, who I have become, is disastrous among all others. A cry of displeasure may or may not rest on my lips for the simple fact of me not knowing who I am anymore.
Confusion is simple to attract, why must it be so hard to lift away?
For knowing simply of one thing that I want in my life, pondering what is challenging me mentally - maybe even emotionally - is tearing me apart. Soon I'll raise the weapon of my choice for ruining a mind of memories and moments that are dearly longed to have back. A glint of light reflects into my vision, a turn of my head occurs, and then the accepting of a grim smile.
The item is retrieved into my left hand, a pulse is found in my right, and then The Silver begins delving, deeply searching, for the source of the throbbing vein. As it is found, as that artery is torn by the Paladin for those emotionally distressed. The lexemes begin to repeat themselves: Forsaken. Remembrance. Confusion.  Memories.
I recall the statement of being wanted by none other than you as my eyes begin to close. What was being craved for so long could have been mine within a matter of time, but I took what they call "The Cowards Way Out." I took the way not many thought I was aware of. I broke a promise that I never truly made to anyone. Now all I hear is the quiet drip... drip... drip...  of Red Remorse crowding the floor.
In regret, I say I'm sorry.
In begging, remember me.
In silence, I'm gone.
Then, the only thing left to cover the floorboards are the words that were left unsaid in that beautiful, liquid crimson.

Your hand fits perfectly in mine,
you'll lead me places I need to go.
All will be just fine,
with you right by my side.

This love of ours has just begun,
and if we're lucky, it won't ever be done.

I have a smile plain to show you
just how much you mean.
And me? I'm being showered with a love
that makes me feel so clean-
clearn of heart, so pure...

You'll never let me go, never let me fall,
you'll be here for me throughout it all.

...and your fingertips are on my cheek,
they're on my skin.
So gentle they are, I feel so weak,
as they begin to rest right beneath my chin.
A kiss, a kiss, a kiss you place,
so softly, against my lips.
The hormones drive me crazy
from the trigger that you trip.
Your fingertips are loving,
and as caring as can be,
I can barely think...
you actually came to me.

Happiness begins to crawl
straight from within my heart.
I can't believe it's happening,
but I won't tear apart...
Won't tear apart from you,
no, not from you.
A fluttering beneath my ribs
is all I need to happen,
just so I can recall
the certain kind of fashion,
that I need to drop into your arms.

I feel so alone without you near,
I can't feel without you here.

...and your fingertips are on my cheek,
they're on my skin.
So gentle they are, I feel so weak,
as they begin to rest right beneath my chin.
A kiss, a kiss, a kiss you place,
so softly, against my lips.
The hormones drive me crazy
from the trigger that you trip.
Your fingertips are brushing,
running through my hair.
It's funny just how many people
wouldn't find this fair.

We're already there, I can barely think...
you actually came to me.
(To me.)
And everything is just as perfect...
as it could ever be.
With your fingertips against my skin,
and you being with me.

Your fingertips... my skin...
You being with me...

There will come a point in life
when you find out things you didn't know
'cause everyone keeps things hidden;
locked them up behind vessel and bone
to never be brought into light again
until someone finds the key.

"I'm secretly a Satanist."
"I'm secretly a Christian."
"I secretly cut myself
because you never listen."
"I secretly don't like you."
"I'm secretly a *****."
"I secretly listen to what you say
behind that closed wooden door."
Everyone has secrets,
and everybody lies,
everybody gives someone pain,
and everybody cries.
Be careful what you wish for,
be careful what you say
one day you might regret it all,
and you'll watch everything decay.

We all know you're a sadist with masochistic tendencies.
Pain is your ecstasy, and it makes no sense to me;
we all know I can't breathe with your hand around my neck.
The passion in the bedroom is dying with every gentle peck.

I can tell you want to **** me from the look inside your eyes,
but I never told you stories that were full of heartfelt lies.
So why am I still here curled up inside your grasp?
I'll be careful what I wish for, this breath might be my last.

You want it rough- where your life makes no sense anymore?
Well... you'd fit rather well with the title "Neighborhood *****."
You won't let me go because you're a fraud from hell,
and you're scared that if you loosen your hold I'll run and tell.

You're no saint, you're a sinner
and you're mad I won't be your dinner.
But I'll do exactly what I please in my life,
and it includes never being the patient beneath your knife.

So I'll run away with half the passion you left me with,
but it's hard to step down when my heart makes me stiff.
I hear something click beside my head...
**** the gun, and pull the trigger, I'm better off dead;
better off in the grave with the rest of the bones
that you laid there because you can't help your heart of stone.
So I'll run away with a head full of holes,
and I'll keep running as the barrel rolls,
and I'll go- go straight to hell,
because I'll never know whatever dwells...
in heaven...
Because I'm a rumoured demon that everyone hates,
and even ignorance can reach the Golden Gates.
So here I am sitting outside of the Devil's home,
and even he won't take me without a dissatisfied groan.

I'm stuck outside hell,
I'm banished from heaven...
Well, Karma will get you
in a year, maybe seven.
You're the one who pulled the trigger,
and made it look the opposite.
Suicide is what it was named,
but even you know the truth of it.

I'm a run-away with half-assed passion,
because you decided I was just a burden
and I wasn't 'allowed' to live anymore.
Well ******* too, you neighborhood *****.

Hello Suicide,
it's been a while since you've passed by.
Do you remember who I am?
I was once your favourite lamb.
You use to taunt me, day in and day out,
I use to ask what it was about
and you always told me to give in to you,
oft times I felt there was no more to do
than submit myself to the succubus of death;
the craver of humans and their pale flesh.

Hello Suicide,
can you teach me how to fly
out into the world were the dead resides?
All of this pain, it just hurts my sides.
I can't stand the mirror as it stares
deep into my core... can it hear my prayers?
I just want the beauty of the feminines I see,
it's so hard just to live here, so hard being me.
I'm nothing but a harlot for this blade inside my hand,
but then again I'm not so sure this affliction I can stand.

Self-mutilation,
with a side of complication,
I'm living in a nation
where love is lost of patience.
I'm no symbol of perfection,
I'm use to the rejection.
I look in every section
of my heart for my reflection.

But it never works just like my fragile heart,
without him I'd likely break apart...

But it never works just like my fragile heart,
I took the cowards way out, I found a different art...

Hello Suicide,
it's been a while since you passed by.
You were my lover, you were my friend,
and now I'm stuck inside the Devil's Den.
I was overcome with wonderous lust
to feel that liquid that tastes of rust.
It's been a while since we danced,
that blade and I were so entranced.

Hello Suicide,
you taught me how to cry.
You taught me how to shiver
with a pain that was shown in every sliver
of my heart as you crawled into my soul
and over took me and my being as a whole.
No one really likes you, you're full of desolation,
you took away my life and named it celebration.
No, I'm not your slave, so I bid you adeiu...
but it's too late, I complied to you.

Self-mutilation,
with a side of complication,
I'm living in a nation
where love is lost of patience.
I'm no symbol of perfection,
I'm use to the rejection.
I look in every section
of my heart for my reflection.

This is the part where I'm not allowed to breathe,
where I have to hold my lungs from collapsing until you see
just how much of my world you make for me
and the perfection that you help me to see.
Now darling this is my chance to show them all
just how much - how far - for you I would crawl,
and how fast which includes just how hard I would fall
for you giving you my heart at every time that you call.

Now please don't get ****** if I tear things apart
to analyze them like they're a new sort of art
and begin to piece them together on my tiny chart
of truths and lies that burrows within the chambers of my heart.
And I apologize if I hurt you with the pain that I bear,
because all of these things I've to get use to being there
in my heart once more where they use to be shared
with so many people that pretended to care.

I know I can't force you to gaze, but this paper tells the story.
And I can't force you to hear me, but my voice sings the song.

But you just would not listen and I just could not bear it,
I was having problems breathing and my heart wouldn't dare it.
What was I supposed to so say when I was to give you the credit
for breaking me to pieces and making out like the bandit?
Now here we are at the start again,
with a heart that is broken, talking with a brand new friend.
This is where it started last time before it decided to end,
but he's happier than you ever were to be my boyfriend.

Never in my entire existance  have I met someone quite like you.
Never in my entire life, has my heart felt this pure nor true.

I know I can't force you to gaze, but this paper tells the story.
And I can't force you to hear me, but my voice sings the song.

It may just seem comical, but you listened so well,
and before I hit the first note, you knew how they fell
and you sang along like you knew how it went
making those tears fade away just like they were spent.

I could teach myself to play guitar,
but I know that I won't get that far.
I could show myself the easy way,
but it's too hard to do today.
I could listen to the words you voice,
but to me that's the hardest choice.
I could tell you exactly what I mean,
but that would mean just coming clean.
I could tell you all about myself,
but I'd rather emotions stay on the shelf.
I could write you a love song,
but I think the words would come out wrong.
I guess I could try instead of assuming,
and after it all I could continue my fuming.

I told you once, before today,
what I felt and ran away.
I hid behind a wall of pain,
and in the end what did I gain?
I was so afraid to break perfection,
so instead I made a fake complexion.
I tried to keep it hidden now,
but my heart had already made the vow.
It came out anyways the way I felt,
and with those emotions is what I dealt
for days, and hours, and minutes, and seconds,
and still here I am, and your love - how it beckons.
The tears love my cheeks as they slide their way down,
their attempt to make me happy, just makes me frown
because I broke perfection in the worst kind of way,
and I don't know how I can live in dismay.

I could explain the complications of who I am,
but you probably wouldn't give a ****.
I could breathe the words you want to hear,
but then what would that do, dear?
I could lust for you like in my dreams,
but that never gets me anywhere it seems.
I could love you just like I said I would,
but I never said that I always could.
I could take pictures of the things we do,
but then we might need to start anew.
I could show you things you don't want to see,
but in your head, what would that make me?
I could bore you to death and push you away,
but then I wouldn't be alive today.

Sticks and stones will break my bones if you throw them at my door.
I guess that leads me to the question of what made you love me more.
What did I say that grabbed your heart and left you feeling wanted?
Because I know I ran away and took what I had for granted.

I told you once, before today,
what I felt and ran away.
I hid behind a wall of pain,
and in the end what did I gain?
I was so afraid to break perfection,
so instead I made a fake complexion.
I tried to keep it hidden now,
but my heart had already made the vow.
It came out anyways the way I felt,
and with those emotions is what I dealt
for days, and hours, and minutes, and seconds,
and still here I am, and your love - how it beckons.
The tears love my cheeks as they slide their way down,
their attempt to make me happy, just makes me frown
because I broke perfection in the worst kind of way,
and I don't know how I can live in dismay.

I'm miserable at best.
So what am I at worst?
The tears can flow
a heart can ache.
I'm searching for a smile
that isn't fake.
I'm starting to wonder
what to say...
what to do...
Where would I be
without you?

Will you be alright
knowing I cry about you every night?
Your love is far from sight,
but I swear I'll find it- for you I'll fight.

I could be a dream catcher
that crushes every nightmare that you've ever had.
I could be the single eyelash
that drops and you wish upon like you've nothing left to lose.
Or I could be a human,
with a beating heart inside my chest and a love for you like no other.

I search for logic.
Then what's a lie?
My eyes can close,
my vessels can quit.
Rememberance can cause amnesia
but the diagnosis doesn't fit.
I'm starting to ponder
what I look like...
What I really feel...
If you were never here,
would I even be real?

Would you be okay
realizing the things I murmur and say?
I'm a magician with ways,
because one thing I know is love always pays.

I could be a dream catcher
that crushes every nightmare that you've ever had.
I could be the single eyelash
that drops and you wish upon like you've nothing left to lose.
But then how would I be human?
I've a beating heart in my chest and I love you like no other.

Just outside Toronto,
we'll work coffee shops and gigs
and make this what we want to.

No longer do I hide
behind apathy and equations
that make no sense.

Here and now I have you
after I've waited so long
to make you mine.

Our adventures across the lands
searching for ethnic flavours
will forever dance throughout my brain.

Your arms wrapped around my waist
and your kisses on my lips
will help bury my demons.

Your illnesses will fade away
so much quicker than before.

Now I'm here playing with the puzzle called your heart
in the conscious effort to put you together as you should be
because someone foolishly played the gambler and felt your heart was worth the bet.

Once you claimed you were upset
not suicidal
but still I worried.

My heart was in your hands
and the melancholy thought of losing you
made minimal scars reopen.

Now, just outside Toronto
we work coffee shops and gigs,
making it what we want to.

With the things we always dreamed to have
and the love that no one else will ever understand.

We'll be bitter together, burn the world together as once we decided we would
because the thought once was so intoxicating that we became lustful for it,
and made the choice to create what we wanted, in Toronto, working coffee shops and gigs.

Here I am, consciously putting your puzzle piece heart back together because someone played the gambler and bet on your blood only to lose because you found out the game that was going on quicker than your host expected and they dropped your vessel like the glass trinket that it is and it shattered to pieces as it met with the ground. Harlotry is the game she started and didn't know how to quit, her mind seemed confused as well as her chest that seemed to be made cold as ice and black as night.
Here I am doing my best to show you how much I care, how much emotion is there in my heart waiting to be shared, to be left in your arms as the truth that it is, to be reflected in your eyes as the things I see, for I love you that much. I could stay with your help if you wanted me to, and could stare at the smile that I caused for you. Now here I breathe like it's not in my nature because of riggers of passion and moments of pleasure.
We could spread your beauty like a rumour that stays, like an illness that's healthy in odd kinds of ways. We can burn things together like pyro-addicted lovers and laugh in the faces of stupidity of others. And the places we stand will be all but cherished for our bitter facade has all but perished from the lives of those that treat us like **** in this evil world that's hell in a pit of a fruit of the universe that no one would pick for differences that express just how much that it ***** even for those with an Irishman's luck.
So here your faith shatters as mine did too and remembrance and patience are again a virtue that not many have because this world tore them down like a natur-istic thing that survives with a frown. And I love you so much I've faith in you, only you, and the things you may do for the hope that humanity will change one day and be more like you.

You can't swallow a yawn like you can swallow a pill,
but yet you try and then you pay by the bill
because the end came near for you after you choked
it all down and felt you'd explode.
So you call 911 and you pant in their ear
the last few breaths you can manage to bear.
You arrive with a time of death but a miracle awaited,
with your last will your God is who you hated.
You wanted to be gone with the tip of a hat,
you wanted them to say you weren't coming back
but you awake on a bed of white in intensive care
with the thought in your mind that this wasn't fair.
You just became worse as the days passed you by,
and you wanted this done, you wanted to die.
You tried it before, you'll try it again,
because there are thoughts in your head that are trying to bend.
Amnesia remembered you and took you in hold
and your brain is the main thing it always patrolled
while you lay in that bed to try and get better.
I wish I could call you, or write you a letter,
but you wouldn't know me since forgetting's your friend now
so here's to you, my heart's trying to know how
to live and keep living without you right here
because now as I look things just don't look clear.

My whole world is falling to pieces.
Nothing will ever be able to fix this.
I own a heart with gaps to fill
and while I crash I'm standing still.
Everything is spinning
and I'm having trouble breathing.
I'm losing all the things that matter
and the line my heart makes is going flatter.
Ceasing to exist seems to be logical.
Remember, my plan has a reason but not diabloical-
I just can't stand this, my mind is now drifting
onto thoughts of the end and it's not shifting.
I'll never be complete again,
and it's like that 'till the end.

I hope you're resting well tonight without dreams of pain or fright with the knowledge that without you I best be dead for every thought that has ever set foot in my head. In the end I will remember the days of the true and the times where I was too far away from you, but I will also recall the sweet bliss that we shared and the feelings we held although no one else cared. We fell in love once and that's all that matters, and still in my chest my heart seems to chatter on and on with how it misses you so and how when I looked into your eyes my vessel would glow with happiness as all that I see is the love that you have that is all just for me. Now darling, please darling, don't drift off too far- I need you right here and not with the stars. I can't let you go when you're still in my heart and you're holding me captive like some sort of art that is everyone's favourite but you can't let go, because deciding to share is letting everyone know just how amazing your lover can be with things that they never thought they'd be graced to see and that's none of their business, they'll all do just fine not knowing the jokes behind the rhythm and rhyme that I express for you today... Well, I love you dear. What else can I say?

Ten in the morning at the table without you,
still waiting for recognition, but you're gone.
It's the same **** on a different day,
and I know you'll be back tomorrow screaming you were wrong.

You left me as a burning flame,
saying not a word.
I heard those ******* keys fumble
as you rushed out of the door.
I'm not a ******* puppet,
I don't have any strings.
I'd like to hear you tell me
you've heard a puppet sing.
No, I'm not Cinderella,
I'm not wearing any rags.
I certainly don't clean the floors
for some ungrateful hags.
I'm not a tiny trinket
that you can just abuse.
I'm a ******* human
that you really shouldn't use.
No, you never loved me
you said that so yourself.
You just keep me as a toy
that you can put upon a shelf.

And now here you are, right outside my door
in a drunken stupour, struggling with the lock.
But the door was left wide open
at a dark hour on the clock.

I'm not ******* perfect
but you're just so much worse.
You argue with me *******
like I'm a ******* curse.
You don't ******* love me,
that's exactly what you said.
You'd love to see me choking.
You'd love to see me dead.
Your words are like a knife
stabbing through my heart,
but it's your ******* fault
that you used me from the start.
You're a pretty bleeder, dear.
Your head is on my floor.
You shouldn't have ever left me
or closed that ******* door.

I apologize if I'm too persistent in telling you that you matter to me and my heart in ways no one ever has. I've become melancholy in the thought of being alone since I have never been treated like anything but a waste of space and values on a clock. Years have gone by since I've felt like I truly existed to anyone for reasons beyond carnal need and emotional comprehension. I'm not accustomed to feeling a purpose. I've become distant from my own mental standpoint and blood-pumping center whereas I can find no direction. I've been abandoned by those who claimed they would never surrender. I've been damaged by those who stated they could never, would never, misuse me.
When you re-arrived in this shattered existence of mine and evaluated me as an actual being with sentimental value, instead of falling apart, I found myself falling together. Every last piece of me discovering the significance of who I am, always have been, and hopefully always will be. I lost multiple opportunities in which I could express to you the amount I care for your entire essence, I could beg to show you now. However, I will do so as you're willing.
Prepared.
Consenting.
Wanting.
You appeared in my life and became a part of the character I never expected to be. "Tu me manques." You are missing from me.

You lay in your bed that is void of anything but yourself and memories. You ponder to yourself over the

Words.

Embraces.

Silences.

you once shared with... Them.

You find yourself missing... Something...

Pieces of yourself you once thought you had but you lost somewhere in the hole of nothingness They gave but you searched for significance within daily.

Crystals form in corners of pink flesh and your cogs churn harder.

It's increasingly difficult to breathe. There's a force unknown by you that is pushing against your lungs.

That unceasingly shattered vessel beating harder in your chest, but if attempted to be heard it comes off as shallow. Nonexistent.

Who's there?

No one.

Not me.

Not Them.

No... You.

YOU  took me and didn't give me back. You took me...

You... You pillaged my body for pieces and left me broken in a junkyard life.

Tears.

Pity.

Depression.

Nothing left but a pile of pieces that no one even uses or cares for anymore.

I can't believe you could tear me apart like that and not make an attempt in repairs. Instead you stole dire parts and tried to find someone you could change.

The truth is, you can't take pieces of something you never truly cared about and attempt to apply it to someone else because it will

NEVER

bear any significance to you, your heart, your mind, or soul.

You're a sad excuse for a waste of territory.

You apathy is pathetic.

My frame is trembling with emotions I never learned how to miss and I'm screaming out with a voice that no one can even hear. Those words I use to listen to aren't even being mentioned anymore and I feel so forsaken. The lexemes the ink use to draw for me have faded into the page and made it blank. Memories tear through my brain and I find myself grasping through my ribcage to grab my puzzle piece heart. I always tend to forget how much I care until I'm left all on my own with nothing but a blanket that hardly keeps me as warm as you did. I'm no longer who I was and I'm not who I want to be. I've let myself subside to a monstrous, desperate catastrophe. You could help me recreate the person I once was. I miss that fragile being and it hurts me when I say it. I never liked who I was until I couldn't portray it. I'm sick of faking smiles that conjoin with "how are yous" and the undying support I know. What about me and my disasters? Does my heart not deserve to endure the assurance of a presence? No, of course not. The truth of the matter is no one cares unless they come to you, they only want YOU to need THEM if they desire you too. And its depressing to know that your words don't matter until your gone on account of those gears being stuck churning to produce conclusion after conclusion of how alone you truly are. It hurts to devour the 'I miss yous' that are trapped inside my lungs. It destroys to crave 'I love yous' that expired when they were young. I can't say I'm here when I feel so possessed by the darkness that I've known for years and I am continuously imploring to fix without spoken word and friends of green and blue. I begin to fade into the darkness; it's painting itself red and when I open my eyes again I'm covered with regret. Come and save me from myself, I beg of you. I want you to. I want to be as alive as you.