Thin

I am sick of this. Sick of caring for you

and having my heart break because I

told you that I cared. Spilled out way too much

of myself. And I am done with being so

opened up to people. I miss my

empty blank gaze.  Miss my mask

of silence, and my ability to

turn off all my emotions.

Why the f**k did I ever start talking again?

 

Cause all that being social has gotten

me is more broken. He hit me for

a reason, to save me from myself.

And for once in my life, I actually wouldn’t

mind having Him back here to

knock some sense into me.

It’d be easier than fretting over

you.

 

 

 

This, you feeling bad etc, is what always happens

when people get close to me. This is what I meant

when I said I am bad for people.

I am the worst kind of poison,

the kind you’ll never sweat out.

the type that once you’ve ingested

will always taint your system.

 

 

 

I am tired of crying tears over boy’s who will

never see them. Tired, sick.. and done.

I’d like to forget it all. Hit my head again,

land myself in the hospital with my

wrist bandaged and my sanity in question.

Cause that is something I understand.

 

I’d like to forget all of this.
Swallow some pills again and ignore

the urge to keep going forward. I am

tired. Worn thin.

With no food in my system for days,

and running on too much caffeine

it shouldn’t be hard to push me over the                         edge.