Like some sort of machine, I consist of an unexplainable failure to function without a required being,
One I can call home, one I can use to soften every edge I come across,
As I am most likely to hurt myself, most likely to hurt the sight of me.
My own enemy, so vile, quite vile to myself, and rather ill, a self diagnosis and a healing which requires more than time.
I have lost quite a lot in the fire in an attempt to protect my supposed loved ones, yet they left in the end,
A departure I could not bare as I am in no condition for the formation of newly found bonds, regardless of longing to let you through,
Yet the shortness of my breath requires you to get me to function, to get me to live.
Tears continue to spill, they continue to spill for the broken, as your absence has nearly driven me mental.
Could this be a fear of being alone? A phobia I consist of?
I need you, I need them, I need all of us to function, to live, to feel sane.
Half of my soul has been tied to having you here, having anyone here, as I am unable, incapable of functioning on my own.
