"Falling is easy, it's getting back up that becomes the problem."
I was already losing my hope in life. But this.. Why now? Why when I'm so low already?
When I was younger, I had so much anger. For what? I can't remember. Bullies I guess? I dunno.
I let go of it all. Through art, through love. Yet that is all I've desired deepest; all I dream of in this life. Being understood and something to devote myself to. Something I can fall back on when my strength gives out.
Compassion is the essence of my being. Or it was. But I always put myself into it - I give a part of me. I-
Humans.. Always wanting what we can never have.
Fuck it. Fuck this poetic shit. I'm dying. I've become what I always felt inside - the monster. Frankenstein.
I'm feared, rejected in any environment - for what? I do everything your fucking society expects of me. I've never done shit to anyone. You don't know me, but you don't want to try to? I tear open my ribcage for you, and you say I'm fucking too mysterious? WHAT?
give me a reason
What the fuck do you want me to be? -
I just need something to hold.. It's what I always need. Art and love. Being understood. Someone I can trust.. someone who won't fade. -
I am lost.
I could have been something to you. Any of you.
everything is gone.
Hold me please?
no one hears me scream.