Perhaps, emptiness stems from inaction. Inaction in life and relationships. For me, it's always been both. I like it when people are raw with me brutally honest, it doesnt matter if it breaks me and in return I break myself, I still appreciate the beauty of rawness, despite the consequences.
Sadness, sadness, sadness. MY emotions are never not haywire. Help me, or don't, it probably won't matter either ways. Because I have been broken, and now my home is broken, but it's comfortable, it's beautiful and most of all, it is what most things arent, it's mine.
I shouldve tried harder. You said I shouldve tried harder to stop after I lost, after 'we' lost the things we lost because of my shit. I know, I shouldve, but we lost too much and things only got worse, not better, love.
Mine in ways, you'll never will be, mine in ways I'll never be. I have breathed through my eternal flames originating from the depths of my chaos, and I'm stronger yet weaker and neither of them make anything better.
So tell me why I'm making my lungs work for me on such nimble wages for such a ghastly duty; to keep me alive. At what cost? Again and again, at what fucking cost?
I need, I NEED, you, I need you to push me to do the things I want to do cause I'm not enough. I'm not enough, I'm not enough, I'm not enough. The stars call out my name but theres no way to get to them without destroying myself; guide me. Fuck, I'm lost in space and i don't if you know how it feels but it's the scariest shit alive.
'It's just me against myself now.'
YOU ARE READING
My Boring Escapades.
Poetry"Breaking free from the thoughts of others." Not alot makes sense in this book. Its not supposed too. They most definitely might be terrible, its just my way of keeping track of things I write no matter how terrible. These are unedited, theyre only...
