Slowly,
I have been dying
without your notice
of my loneliness.
I have changed too much to be the one for you
because now I question if there even is such a thing
as love. What is it?
I don't care enough.
I don't care at all, really.
But I'm okay with that
I don't WANT to care
because that means I don't have to feel
I don't have to be...human. I don't have to care about whether or not you're sad,
I don't have to care about whether or not I make you angry.
But this..I cannot
This is something that....managed to penetrate those thick walls I put up so I wouldn't have to feel.
This stripped me down until I was more than naked.
It seemed to wait there...hovering before me,
and I could do nothing while I stood there..knowing that it was going to attack and
ATTACK
and
ATTACK
and
ATTACK
I could do nothing.
Yet, as I lay there, my mangled soul
still did not want to let go.
HOW PATHETIC.
JUST GIVE UP.
I tell to myself.
Once more will only cut you deeper.
