Damage
This damage, I will never be whole or perfect or beautiful. I will never keep love around very long. I cause this, all of it. bring this all on myself. I want forever I want eternity and I want understanding. I want to give all of me and not look back or question or be afraid. damage damage damage, I will always be damaged. I want my other, my soulmate...I want you. You let me need you, you let me believe that you were strong enough.
I wish I were someone else, something else, anything else. I wish these scars never existed, I wish I wasn't so opinionated, so difficult, so spoiled. I wish I knew how to let go...just let go of everything and fly. Hide in the wheel well of a truck like a cat and sleep until I fell under. Evreything I touch turns to dust and I am creating monsters with my stubbornness and inability to forget. Don't you see? I pushed you.
I wish I never exsisted. I wish I could disappear. I wish I could be as cool as you are, and have never suffered or been hurt before I understood what that meant. Why couldn't I have been born as something else...someone else. Falling prey to the weight of circumstances is a choice that I have made somehow, in any case I choose not to put it down, even as my knees buckle and my lungs are crushed and the breathing becomes labored. Sitting at the edge of reason and sanity if I just lost it, lost it all for good would they lock me up and make me comfortable, to be alone with my neurosis, my thoughts of death and light and beauty. Removing the opportunity for me to be exposed to the possibility of loving and needing, and therefore eliminating the probability of being hurt. Could I be happy there? Left alone to forget and remember what feeling felt like?
I wish I were someone else, something else, anything else. I wish these scars never existed, I wish I wasn't so opinionated, so difficult, so spoiled. I wish I knew how to let go...just let go of everything and fly. Hide in the wheel well of a truck like a cat and sleep until I fell under. Evreything I touch turns to dust and I am creating monsters with my stubbornness and inability to forget. Don't you see? I pushed you.
I wish I never exsisted. I wish I could disappear. I wish I could be as cool as you are, and have never suffered or been hurt before I understood what that meant. Why couldn't I have been born as something else...someone else. Falling prey to the weight of circumstances is a choice that I have made somehow, in any case I choose not to put it down, even as my knees buckle and my lungs are crushed and the breathing becomes labored. Sitting at the edge of reason and sanity if I just lost it, lost it all for good would they lock me up and make me comfortable, to be alone with my neurosis, my thoughts of death and light and beauty. Removing the opportunity for me to be exposed to the possibility of loving and needing, and therefore eliminating the probability of being hurt. Could I be happy there? Left alone to forget and remember what feeling felt like?