98.
I can't get them out my head.
I don't know their names but I see faces & hear voices & they're telling me I'll never be good enough for him.
& I'm quite scared of myself right now & I think part of this is because I'm so ill right now.
Spell check is my friend when my hands begin to shake & I can't stop it.
I'm rubbish as who I am & I mean it when I say I absolutely despise myself & I want to fucking die.
& This is why I can't match up to the nameless girls of his past, black hair, lips pierced, hips sashaying as he holds them gently & it won't get out & I don't want this.
All these girls, they're beautiful, captivating his every attention & why do I feel like this?
My own past floats & bounces within the space between my ears & I can't concentrate on anything.
My chest hurts & my hands shake & the words can't come out.
They flock to him like flies to shit & I fade into the blackness.
Girls that'll fall to there knees in front of him in all shapes & form & just bend & sway & make it ok & I can't do that.
I can't do much & so much is in my mind.
So many bad and evil thought.
I keep second guessing everyone & it's completely unfair of me & I'm such a terrible person for doing it.
I'm hearing contradictions to everything people are saying to me & I know i'm having a breakdown & it's so messy & awful.
Burning up but freezing cold. I actually think I'm far more ill physically & mentally than I'm willing to say & I want out of this.
Everything hurts, I don't know if it's physical or mental & I'm so close to running away right now & I don't know where I could go or what I could do.
I need to reach out, I need help but I can't do it.
I'm just falling further down, I want this to stop so much & it won't.
It' my own fault.
Force the smiles, force some laughter, force myself out of bed in the morning.
News just in: Beauty is skin deep, ugly goes to the bone.
& My thoughts & my face are far from attractive.
Don't look to closely, just see the girl with the piercings & the wild hair & this exuberance that really means nothing.
Empty shell.
I don't want this all over again.
I'm going to do things I haven't done in years.
When I go down I take every fucker with me.
Push them away so they don't get hurt so much.
Lets see how much they really love me?
I don't want to turn into her again, the one who bit everyones head off before they even had a chance to say hello, the one who's eyes followed them around the room, angry eyes for an angry girl.
Pushing people away, stood in the middle of Bexhill, fighting to be let go, him fighting to keep me, to make it all better.
Things fall apart so easily & I don't know what to say to people anymore.
I don't know their names but I see faces & hear voices & they're telling me I'll never be good enough for him.
& I'm quite scared of myself right now & I think part of this is because I'm so ill right now.
Spell check is my friend when my hands begin to shake & I can't stop it.
I'm rubbish as who I am & I mean it when I say I absolutely despise myself & I want to fucking die.
& This is why I can't match up to the nameless girls of his past, black hair, lips pierced, hips sashaying as he holds them gently & it won't get out & I don't want this.
All these girls, they're beautiful, captivating his every attention & why do I feel like this?
My own past floats & bounces within the space between my ears & I can't concentrate on anything.
My chest hurts & my hands shake & the words can't come out.
They flock to him like flies to shit & I fade into the blackness.
Girls that'll fall to there knees in front of him in all shapes & form & just bend & sway & make it ok & I can't do that.
I can't do much & so much is in my mind.
So many bad and evil thought.
I keep second guessing everyone & it's completely unfair of me & I'm such a terrible person for doing it.
I'm hearing contradictions to everything people are saying to me & I know i'm having a breakdown & it's so messy & awful.
Burning up but freezing cold. I actually think I'm far more ill physically & mentally than I'm willing to say & I want out of this.
Everything hurts, I don't know if it's physical or mental & I'm so close to running away right now & I don't know where I could go or what I could do.
I need to reach out, I need help but I can't do it.
I'm just falling further down, I want this to stop so much & it won't.
It' my own fault.
Force the smiles, force some laughter, force myself out of bed in the morning.
News just in: Beauty is skin deep, ugly goes to the bone.
& My thoughts & my face are far from attractive.
Don't look to closely, just see the girl with the piercings & the wild hair & this exuberance that really means nothing.
Empty shell.
I don't want this all over again.
I'm going to do things I haven't done in years.
When I go down I take every fucker with me.
Push them away so they don't get hurt so much.
Lets see how much they really love me?
I don't want to turn into her again, the one who bit everyones head off before they even had a chance to say hello, the one who's eyes followed them around the room, angry eyes for an angry girl.
Pushing people away, stood in the middle of Bexhill, fighting to be let go, him fighting to keep me, to make it all better.
Things fall apart so easily & I don't know what to say to people anymore.