February 7, 2013
I can not handle myself anymore. I am beyond the point of any return. I am alone, and I hurt endlessly. What's worse is that I like the pain. I thrive off of it. I do not belong here nor there. I am only breathing. I can't help but love the sting of a sharp blade when I know you aren't there for me. I pretend not to notice, but I know you probably have other girls you talk to. Other girls you say are special, and other girls you wish were there with you right now. I'm floating in and out of consciousness, drowning in a river of my own tears. I continue to choke back the sobs that would otherwise recklessly escape my lungs. I don't even have a reason to cry. I'm paranoid. Yet, I sit here with pen to paper wondering why on Earth I put up with you. I could walk away. Erase you from everything but my memory. And still, here you are, waiting for me to run with you, as far away as the eye can see. We could stand on the highest peaks and scream, because we would be the rulers of the world. But you tell me goodnight, and leave my side indefinitely. Nobody knows how desperate I am for you. Nobody knows, except for you. And that is what is killing me. I can not even handle myself anymore

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