Or I will never sleep
I am NOT a mind reader
You did NOT clearly communicate
This is NOT my fault
Even if you get mad at me for the way your miscommunication hurt me
That does not make this my fault
Unless of course I’m simply not supposed to feel anything
Then I guess it is all my fault.
It does not exist outside of fairy tales and fantasy.
No such thing as fair.
I am tired of feeling like no matter what I do in some way I am always wrong. It isn’t fair.
That illusive imaginary mini unicorn Fair.
I am always fucking something up. But hey ad long as I’m the only one hurt whats it matter right?
I want to slash myself into quivering strings of bloody ribbons. There is something truly good and wrong. Rivers of red coursing pale skin. Cutting is wrong
But I’m always wrong anyway
And it’s only hurting me so what’s it matter…
I don’t. I want to
I walk away from it
As long as I can
Just settled for all the other wrong I seem to do instead
But it’s there.
Maybe I deserve it
Is the worst when you live alone.
I think I get the most depressed when I don’t feel well.
Inevitably it also seems everyone I reach too is too busy.
Fuck I’m pathetic
I can feel it straining on the back of my neck…. Pulling at the back of my head.
Rage, roiling up like a blue black storm front shot with lightening.
It shivers in my bones. Aching in my muscles.
I want to lash out with all this darkness thrashing
Burn burn burn
Instead I shudder to breath
Clamp my ‘normal’ face into place
Feeling it strain beneath the pressure
And pretend I’m ok
Pretend I’m not seething inside
Pretend I’m sane, dutiful, functional