we are all
so very different :
and yet
we’re all the same.
I feel more alive than I’ve ever been.
the world has
big black teeth
and ate me in my sleep
when i was 2
i do believe.
I am afraid of the world.
lukey grew up.
babybare, I miss your smell.
I miss your touch.
I miss how hot you looked in wife beaters.
I miss every fucking little thing about you.
I miss the way you taste.
I miss the way you kissed me.
I miss every fucking thing.
I miss peeing in your bathroom.
I miss touching you.
fuck this,
fuck all of this.
what the fuck am I supposed to do without you.
what the fuck.
the worst part is knowing you don’t want me.
that’s what hurts the most.
it’s not like if you died then I would just kill myself so I wouldn’t have to feel anything.
this I can’t do.
I can’t feel you and not have you.
I can’t do this.
I can’t.
I don’t really have much of a point if I don’t have you.
it’s like I know I’m going to die one day, you’re going to die, we’re all going to die, so who the fuck gives a shit what you spend your time doing.
live it up, become a coke addict, no one fucking cares, we’re all going to die.
you just make life so much more tolerable, you make life enjoyable, you make life have a meaning, have purpose.
even though I’m still going to do the same shit, become an addict or whatever the fuck, burn buildings down, set people’s cars on fire, because really, what is the point of life,
you just fucking make it worth it.
I don’t wanna be a heroin addict on my own.
I want you to be the warmth in my sheets at night.
I want you to be the one I kiss while I fall asleep.
I want you to be the one who knows me inside and out, better than I know myself, the one who holds me, and fucks me, and kisses me, and falls asleep with me, and wakes up with me, every night and every morning and every day and every everything for ever and ever and ever and ever.
so what the fuck.
fuck this.
fuck all of this.
I love a good cry. did you know there was 2 years I went when I couldn’t cry. I tried. tried tried tried. I couldn’t. “I haven’t cried. I can’t cry. I haven’t cried in two years.” god, it was terrible. dry little box. no emotion. too hurt to feel anything. little box. dried up. and I remember the first time I cried since then and since I became able to cry again I have loved it. you’d never understand.
somebody turned the brightness level down on my life.
keep on singing- just keep on playing til the- ship goes down- tap tap- shake to the beat- til the orchestra drowns.
everyone’s doing sketchy shit right now.
