i’m gone.

since i’m not deemed to be an important enough person to invest your emotions and thoughts into, you’re not either.

you can look into my eyes with that sad, sad face you wear so well.

yeah, you’re the best, go you.

so, lately…

I’m looking at the blank screen of my phone, hoping your name will flash across, coupled with a New Message & with even a half-assed attempt at constellation.

i’m sorry, i’m so damn sorry but whatever. fuck this, i’m so tired of it.

you’ve got to let me know

I hate poetry. I’ve never understood the beauty of it. I’ve never got it. it just confuses the shit out of me.

I also realise that I’m confused a lot lately. that sucks.

-

please pick a fucking mood. i’m tired of happy, sad, unhappy, self-deprecating and closed off all on th same day. if you want to call it quits just fucking say it, you coward.

you’re so damn confusing. ): ):

my help comes from above.

I’m truly blessed.

so why do I love you?

“Pain is something to master, not to wallow in.”

it’s sad that 15 and cynical is worse than 60 and naive. maybe it’s cause you take me apart, piece by piece and when you mend me together you’re careful to tell me that I’m nothing without you. like I didn’t know that already. damn you.

(couple that with sylvia plath who is disturbingly insightful when it’s 12 in the morning and you’re feeling desolate)

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