Works of beauty
Are never ment to love me.
I am a freak, nothing believes in me.
Because I have no faith my self.
I can see, my self and I can’t fix a thing I see.
Nothing more then pain takes over.
And I let it happen, it easy to make it go away.
To make it seem like I deserve what I know I don’t.
I can’t have what I want.
I never can.
It will always be the same.
My eyes will open on a new day just as it has forever.
And I will expire.
No names, no understanding, no peace.
Love, isn’t it a funny word.
Every one can describe it.
Even if they have never felt it.
I have.
And the morning of its loss never went away,
Like they all told me it would.
No…
It just stayed and plagued me.
Killing me slowly like it owned me.
I have no control over my self now.
Just impulse.
And gods dose it control me.
Like a cures.
Cutting and letting go is just the half of it.
The parts no one else sees, its begining to frighten me now.
Ill just stay behind like I always do.
It hurts to be like this.
It kills every damn day.
But I accept it.
Because I know in the end
It will be all I have to comfort me; my painful memories are all I have.
Loneliness is the same as normal living except it hurts more.
The way I am now
Eats at me.
Kill me for what I am now.
Forget all about me. And let me waist away.
I don’t want to feel any more…

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