i wish i could cheat on girls and have them ultimately crawl back to me,
that i could be the one to fuck up and yet still receive an apology.
i wish people would return to my manipulative ways with emotion,
but everybody eventually gives up on fixing that which is profoundly broken.
i am slowly fading, sustained solely on spite;
i fill myself to the brim with hatred to help prop me upright.
i don't think i've fully justified being totally alone on this earth
but i'm sure i'm getting what i deserve and not what i think that i'm worth.
i cannot recall exactly where this bend turned to a break
nor can i pick precisely the point where the pain turned to an ache.
i've completely forgotten when i started to lean so heavily on this crutch
or when absolutely everything became just all too much.

i'm giving this my all, i'm trying my absolute best
to not lump you together alongside all of the rest
but i feel i'm failing quite spectacularly, i fear i'll be replaced.
i'm so afraid you won't want me again until i am entirely erased.
until i am finally the piece of shit you swore that i never was -
ignoring the exhaustion and all the hardships i have caused.
i'm really fucking sorry, i need the oppurtunity to communicate
that i have yet to go a single single day where i do not carry your weight.
i will always run back to you no matter what you've put me through
because all my days still seem to always start and end with you.
i cannot shake the lightest of blues that is your eyes,
how they are so damn wonderful and how they would hypnotize.
i'm begging do not forget that i will be right here
whether it takes but several months or rather, several years.

how dare you refer to the scratches on your legs as cuts,
holding a dull pair of sissors in between cigarette butts.
debating a method of taking the rhook from reaper.
if you really wanted to kill yourself you'd push the blade half an inch deeper.
you'd rip the skin from your arms to rewire your neurology,
finally giving the world a punchline for its most tragic of comedies,
but you don't because you're a coward, too afraid of his own death.
carrying around as many demons as a modern day MacBeth.
left with absolutely nothing except for your worthless degree,
should've ended it those nights you'd committed to driving into a tree
but the car always swerves in the opposite direction.
and you can't overdose because tolerance offers far too much protection.
if suicide is nullified, you're truly not sure what to do
other than continue to let your pain and selfishness slowly envelop you.

i hope you cope half as well when you catch my scent on your sheets,
because i'm doing just fine now being the one of us who never eats.
i falter around the fracture shards of all that failed to keep,
doing just fine omitting the time between when i wake up and go back to sleep.
it's gotten awful hard for me to try and keep or match your pace,
i try to stumble after you but my feet are stuck firm in place
and i've been trying for so long now it's become more sad than comical -
navigating this human maze but forever tripping over the exact same obstacles.

fluctuate me with the heart strings severed and fashioned into a whip
or rather braid it into rope if your preference is to choke me with it.
melt it into a metal used to coat my heart with so it can be a paperweight
or turn it into an oil to cover myself with and help me to self-immolate.
you've tried hard to shift the blame from me but i don't want to hear it,
thoughtful words cannot take back how badly you raped and broke my spirit.
you built me up just to ultimately push me harshly to the bottom,
i can see clearly just how much you care by how easily i've been forgotten.
i jump off of the tallest of buildings in my head each and every night
i thought we'd speak somewhat often, even if just to see if i'm alright.
only know i'm alive because i keep posting all of my writings
about how every tree and power pole all look far too inviting.
i am an emotional fucking child controlling the corpse of an adult
only knowing how to cope by making everything that much more difficult.
everyone is in on a joke that i'm yet to be told about
probably just laughing at me for being self-destructive and shutting everyone out.

destroying the bridges built from brick and stone i've cast
to carefully construct this character and keep all of this masked
and i will keep it held upright until i eventually fall or slip.
hold tightly onto this until my hands cramp and lose their grip
or i trip along uneven roads these heavy rains have caused to erode
trying not to mind me in the midst of another depressive episode
and unlike before i don't feel i can help myself
doing my best to compartmentalize and put it to the back of the shelf.
it'll take several years to fully accept that your leaving,
of utilizing tips of scissors to ensure that i've ceased dreaming.
fortunate you can't bare witness to my overwhelming regression.
you've spelled out the answer but i still ponder the question
have you added my name to your list of failed ex-lovers?
have your decide where i will rank, above or amongst others?
i never asked for much, wasn't expecting to be your priority
never stick around for long before resorting back to ignoring me.

i hope you find what you're missing, cradled in the arms of another
while i will dwell on all these dark thoughts that force my body to shudder.
all the seeds that you've sown have finally sprouted and flowered,
yet the fruits you had planted have sadly turned acidic and soured.
please don't let my memory weigh on you, i've always ended up just fine.
i've dealt with heart ache before but it's infinity harder this time.
i don't see why i'd considered this time would be any different,
the inertia that plagues me is occurring far too fucking frequent.
i constantly stumble straight into a situations so easily prevented
then waste my days agonizing over the most efficient ways to end it.
they say time heals all wounds but i've only found the reverse
the seasons shift forward and yet all i do is get worse.
forever debating how to bring about finality through harm
and since i've failed twice already, i hope third time's the charm.
no more complaining about no friends and life not being that fair,
the only reason i need anyone is to help me kick the chair.

i'm being slightly over-dramatic to make the poetry intense,
writing more than a single stanza now to not leave you in suspense.
cannot communicate more concisely that i'm just barely scraping by
used up all the pretty ways of phrasing "i want to die".
not inventing any effective mechanism to help abet my bid to cope
rather doing the opposite by measuring differing lengths of rope
and bowing my arms in an attempt to leave notation as scars.
i guess i'd be better at expression if i could figure out a guitar.
probably want a musician to pen songs about how perfect you are
but i simply cannot compose the melodies, it's not in my repertoire.
suffer from stage fright, i cower before the crowds.
i'm stuck rearranging words which are much too painful too say aloud.
always said writing doesn't matter have i finally proved myself right?
i'm sorry most things i've written about you are in a very negative light
but i know nothing else but to engage with the grandest hyperbole
and i'm sure that over time it'll cause you to begin to hate me.

last june my life was alright but now it's all gone to shit.
i have grown far more bitter than i could ever care to admit.
before you came back into my life everything was just fine,
you set me up for failure and shoved me hard down the decline.
i guess i'm well less worth it than drop-outs and drug addicts,
so sorry i didn't give you the required amount of over-dramatics.
i'm expending every effort but i doubt it even fucking matters,
if it is all-or-nothing to you, i'm leaning towards the latter.
i have grown dependent on you, is that what you needed to hear?
that us not speaking often is my one greatest fear.
trying hard not to but i will succumb to the spite,
if you honestly loved me, i'd expect some form of a fight.
i'm getting so very tired of this idiotic "destiny" bullshit,
when you really want something you fucking work towards it.
you said this doesn't reflect on me but i feel you're a liar.
i will gather up my emotional kindling and set it all on fire.

last june my life just fine but now it's all gone to shit,
i have grown far more bitter than i could ever care to admit.
i've wasted too much of my time ceaselessly overthinking.
so desperate to be rid of this, i've debated going back to drinking.
i've taken this so poorly, these days are so fucking rough,
should have never fooled myself into thinking i was ever good enough.
got over-confident believing that i could carry your weight
thought i could keep treading water but i will drown and suffocate.
i will dig myself a deeper grave and bury myself in the dirt
to hide from all my sorrows, thoughts of death and the hurt.
no amount of drugs can numb that which constantly aches,
no conversations with friendly faces can erase my mistakes.
i am seeking something which will help to get me though
the overwhelming amount of days that still start and end with you.