If only I were weaker,
if only I were dumber,
if only I were simpler,
if only I were boring,
if only I were meaner
if only I could hate.
If only,
it’s hard to be accepted by anyone,
when they all misunderstand you.
They hurt you,
beat you down,
kindness kills you, especially when it’s nothing in the end.
I’m too smart for my own good.
Too tough, too different,
too nice, too respectful.
This is why I cannot trust you,
or anyone.
They get in, and they hurt me.
I refuse to be hurt any longer.
So immortality it will have to be.
Every time.
I want to say no.
I want to go.
I want to pretend I don’t want,
that I don’t need.
But it’s so damn hard when none of this is true.
It’s much easier just not trusting.
And only divulging enough to be comfortable.
Because no one is willing to give you what you need.
Even if they want to.
Because some people can’t be anything other than what they are.
You say its hard being different,
well you’re certainly right.
But at the same time you have no real concept of how deep it goes.
How far the scars stretch,
how sinister the time is, elapsing inward on you. Impelling you terribly.
Each second of despair is like an eternity in hell. Waiting.
And it’s always yourself and no one else who ends up picking you back up.
When their are so many spirits I have picked up, as if it were nothing.
It is hard being strong. It’s hard being different.
I hate it.
They even pretend to give a shit,
but they honestly don’t know how.
They don’t even realize how they pretend.
I am tangled up bad.
I Want to Hate everyone So Badly.
But I just can’t. As much as I try I seem to fail exceedingly.
It just isn’t in me, so they deny you, they pressure you.
Never realizing that with each time they do this, they strike another day to your jail sentence.
And if that is so,
I’d rather die than betray myself.
I would rather hurt, and let them hurt me.
Because I know they couldn’t take it,
they’d never understand how I protect them always.
If I betray humanity,
I then betray myself.
I want to hate you,
beat you,
and hurt you.
Just like you do me.
Without even knowing,
but you do.
And if you died away.
Then I would too.
I want no one to escape my suffrage.
I Inflict it upon you in words.
But I also cry-
I hurt so much.
Please let me go.
Let me die in peace.
I wish no one loved me,
that no one needed me.
Because I’ve loved and wanted so much.
And I’ve gotten nothing but forgotten.
Pain. Pain. Pain. Pain.
Sorrow spilling from my eyes.
The capillaries shushed by remorse.
Bleeding from my veins.
Towering, teetering my mind in confliction.
You have no idea what I’ve seen.
You don’t even know how I feel.
Addiction is something you think about.
But you have no way of understanding.
If you did,
you would have said something to me a very long time ago.
But here I am stumbling in the dark, like a fool.
And I blame myself, I shame myself.
I betray myself because I want so much,
I cannot turn my back on anyone.
Because I’ve had so many backs turned on me.
I cannot stand to hurt anyone,
because I’ve been pained so harshly.
The truth is,
I am only still standing here,
because I truly- need people.
But nobody ever seems to want me.
They just use me because I’m convenient.
And that will be the end.
It will be the punch line.
The joke.
The catch as never caught,
no one really even tried to know.
And I’ll be gone.
I’m not sure for how long,
or to where I’ll be.
Sometimes I’ll come back.
Because I hope so much,
I believe so devotionally.
I strive so hard for myself.
If there is nothing more for me to strive for,
then there is nothing more for me to do but perish.
Body cold,
washing over pale.
Like snow white paint over a picket fantasy.
Hands out stretched ebbing away at reality.
Lips curbing into insanity, into anguish.
Eyes rolling back into complete and utter misery.
It only hurts for a moment.
A life time of severe pain,
swallowed by care, by dreaming,
by wanting - longing; striving.
Fighting.
It’s the only reason I’m still breathing.
Still living.
Without all of it.
I’m gone. Dead. Done.
I want so hard to get away from this world.
These insane people, looking to me for all the answers.
Weeping to me, never for me.
If I could touch you, and you could feel what I’ve felt.
It would kill you in one clean surge.
I wish I could opt out so easily.
But I’m too stubborn. I’m too thick headed.
i do need, I want, I long, I care, I strive, and I feel immensely.
Because I am burning with so much longing.
show me something, show me your flesh on my flesh,
let me feel your realness, your sweat,
your breath, your heart pumping in your chest and into my ear.
A thirst, a hunger, never to be quenched.
I never knew anyone, willing to satisfy such sadness.
And it would be so easy, so effortless.
They are all gone.
Saying how they miss me,
how they dream of me.
Pretending to care for me.
And I am so alone here.
Dying every step of the way.
It kills me how the one person who needs something,
gets nothing, no one. No kind words, no sweetness.
Only illusions, because it makes you feel good.
Because I make you feel good.
But that is my poison.
Anyone I ever needed; left me.
abandoned me.
hurt me.
Put me in jeopardy.
What did I do to deserve such mess?
Such carelessness?
I couldn’t express to you enough times,
not without killing you too.
Just take it away.
Kiss my pursed lips covered in sweet tears.
Teeth gritted in anguish.
Hold me, body tensed in fear,
and show me, show me I can trust you with what I feel.
So it can be put to bed for good.
But here,
that’s not going to happen.
Although it would be my salvation.
I’m convinced there are other plans for me.
As much as I need and want and love,
I am then ten folds alienated.
Welcome to the club,
you’re just the same as anyone who ever killed me.
I’ve died millions of times.
but I’m so resilient,
I’ve risen from the dead as many times over.
I just can’t turn this feeling off.
I can’t turn off the hope for something better.
I still believe and it’s killing me more over
your killing me by sitting there comfortably.
active enough to not feel guilty,
but uninvolved enough to not feel smashed by my killing.
when it is your daggers I walk about,
removing all the way.
running away and hiding like a wounded animal.
because without, I’m done.
I can’t let go or give up on feeling, anything.
I’ve seen so many faded smiles.
so many people have relied on me.
told me how I radiate.
never seeing how they were killing me slowly.
I am fragile, I am tender, and I am sensitive.
just show me, I need you to be tough for me,
someone, and anyone.
I scream for help and no one arrives.
I want to be held.
to be wanted.
I want it so much, but I don’t receive it.
no one seems strong enough.
or capable enough.
what’s more important?
getting what you want?
or being given what you need?
no. do not answer that.
we all know where I will end up.
with notoriety or none else.
yes, I’ll make it.
all great minds do.
it will probably be too late for me by the time I get it.
I might be already far too dead, and far too gone.
I don’t need flowers on my grave,
from people who think they knew me.
all i need is some soup in my tummy to help keep me alive.
to keep me going.
where I’ll be going, I cannot smell roses, nor admire their beauty.
I suppose now is the time to live it up,
because I’m not fading anytime soon.
it is this soul that is meant to burn out.
in a glimpse; a glimmer.
damned if I do, and damned if I don’t.
so fast, that no one could contain it,
but everyone within ear shot will be silenced by it,
and they’ll all be there to say they saw it happen.
till the memory is only here,
by these words, and fading memories of yesterday.
and each momentary dawn. going, going-gone. done.
dead. and back to life again.
immortality is tortuous.
