You live with depression, like it is a part of you, a neutral feeling. Then suddenly, a stupid idea like going to a druggies party and trying to get along with a different world just because I got infatuated by the mysterious nobility mixed with deep frustration in that psychedlic stranger I don't even like. I thought I did but I don't, it was just me writing poems about her the same way I write poems about every stranger I get to meet and infatuates me in their own mysterious ways they don't even know they have because I am that desperate and fucked up so I simply go and lose a weird competition of doing disguisting stuff, lose her interest in me and eat 2 jars of nutmeg that actually tastes like shit and it made me throw up several times because I am a selfish loser who actually hates himself and this makes sense as much as it doesn't sound like that. and how should that make you feel? Sad.. sadder? Another dose of sadness is added and you got nothing to do about it.
Maybe I fear myself so much because simply, everything inside me is poisionous and every person who ever dared to touch my soul only died inside me, only adding a burden to my chest..and heart.
Did I get too drunk????? I love my handwriting when I'm drunk.
Anyway, I won't forgive you, Chalice, and I won't forgive myself either..
But maybe I like her and maybe we always aim to find someone to love us because we are too wrecked to love ourselves..
She is wrecked like me in a way or another, and at the end, I believe that "if there is nothing to be fixed, there is nothing to love.."
YOU ARE READING
Violette 2
RandomI tried to understand you but you splashed me with all the rainbow colors, left me looking like a painting that doesn't even make sense, making whoever sees it wonder by the gasp of creativity that laid some attraction in me. I was a mixture of ever...
