I am made of fail. Forgive me for the cruel way I tore out your eyes.
This is something I need to deal with. The abject misery and blatant darkness inside.
I don't want to die alone. I don't want to be alone. I don't want to die.
I set myself up for failure. I'm good at it. I've been doing it for years.
I pull out my hair and wonder why men think I'm strange. I tell them my failures and faults
and hope they don't accept me.
Why can't I let myself accept me. Why can't I surrender?
And if it isn't hard enough to be single and 33, I take exception to anyone who isn't nearly as smart as I am.
And I won't even consider dating a fat guy. What ever that means. As if I'm one to talk.
Maybe I should quit.
I said fuck-it once before, and immediately fell in love. Can I even remember what this love thing is?
I don't want to die alone. I don't want to be alone. I don't want to die.
I set myself up for failure. I'm good at it. I've been doing it for years.
I pull out my hair and wonder why men think I'm strange. I tell them my failures and faults
and hope they don't accept me.
Why can't I let myself accept me. Why can't I surrender?
And if it isn't hard enough to be single and 33, I take exception to anyone who isn't nearly as smart as I am.
And I won't even consider dating a fat guy. What ever that means. As if I'm one to talk.
Maybe I should quit.
I said fuck-it once before, and immediately fell in love. Can I even remember what this love thing is?