no one told you that you had to go through it alone.
no one said that you had to keep quiet while your demons boiled and bubbled under your skin.
that was always your thing though, wasn't it?
you were always the quiet one.
golden are those you've chosen to trust with the burden of your worries,
if you ever even chose to do that.
golden are the people you've chosen to spend your time with willingly, without the sense of obligation.
golden are the few you've deemed worthy of your love, because i don't know if i am. even if i try so hard. even if i try so, so hard.
i don't know what it is you're going through, but you don't have to go through it alone.
you don't have to keep it inside, keep it bubbling up until you explode at the nearest person who happens to be the biggest fuckup in the room (and i know — i know, it'll always be me. it'll always be me.)
you don't have to heal quietly and heal alone. there are people who love you. people who care for you. just stop pushing them away. stop being so cold. stop being so implosive. stop being so explosive. it hurts. it probably hurts you more. we can help. we can help each other. just let us help.
