Cross my heart and wish to die if selling my soul to yours is not enough for your heavenly disguise to prove myself of my foolish heart and mind that falls to its knees to the idea of your love watch my eyes to see what I’ve become a fool to try and love what can’t be theirs like a balloon falling in love w a Cactus’s every thorn no matter how much it kills it you were supposed to protect me but instead you disguise yourself into my heaven and trapped me when my love for you became to uncontrollable for the both of us so cross my heart and hope to die by your hand and only yours for no matter how badly your thorns make me bleed may the blood make you satisfied with the heart it bleeds from may u stare into my eyes the way I stare into yours may u cry with the very same tears that fell victim to you down my cheeks may you feel the way I feel may you fall with me instead of you with the knife and me in the blood you caused may for once I be right and you be wrong may for once you admit that in the nights of you holding me you felt something in the times I cried and you held me and whispered to me you felt something I want you to admit it was real no matter how lost we got inside our unworthy but passionate love admit it was real may the blood you caused satisfied you from the heart it bleeds from for it is all I have left to give to you
You left. all of it was a lie just like the rest, I allowed you in and you set fire to what I spent years rebuilding and I hate you for it. I still love you and I hate myself for it.
existing is just too much for my brain to handle, weeks turn into one long day, months seem like distant dreams, half the time I don’t even feel like anything’s real. It’s ether everything is drowning into one big black void or I’m here living existing in the inescapable pain my brain puts me through.
I just want to scream, scream so loud these walls and voices just fall into dust. I can’t breath. I can’t stay still. I can’t I can’t I can’t- make it stop please. Please I beg make this uncurable madness stop.
I think about dying but I don't want to die. Not even close. In fact my problem is the complete opposite. I want to live, I want to escape. I feel trapped and bored and claustrophobic. There's so much to see and so much to do but I somehow still find myself doing nothing at all. I'm still here in this metaphorical bubble of existence and I can't quite figure out what the hell I'm doing or how to get out of it.