Jul 16, 2008 18:29
Maybe I need the medicine.
No, quiet yourself.
You are only looking for the easy way out.
It has all been hard for so long now, that I cannot remember the last time I was truly content.
It is the day to day triumphs
I need you to focus on.
I'm just so tired, so fucking tired.
So sick of fighting with myself all of the time,
Of negotiating with masochists.
Of the hurt and the disappointment and the insistent thought that I am never going to achieve anything spectacular.
Well, what do you plan to do about all of this?
I haven't the slightest.
I am all out of brilliant ideas,
Backup plans,
Exit strategies.
Sex has turned on me, and now I only feel like a slut.
5 pounds wears a lot like 15 on my small frame.
There is not enough room, here, to move around.
Tomorrow, it will be better.
No.
There are hurt feelings and coveted grudges,
Police reports and criminal records.
Tomorrow is not a solution.
No re-write,
Take 2,
"This one's for the money shot".
You sound pathetic.
You look like you have given up already.
Not given up.
There is nothing left for me to give.