Hollow. I feel this gaping hole and I’m not quite sure when it’ll stop eroding. It’s hard to explain why my own reflection shatters as the years go by, but the reality of the situation is that I’m up at 5am trying to figure out an answer that’ll make sense to me, so of course it’ll be a dead end.
My minds troubled by the emptiness and numb doesn’t cut it in regards to describing how I feel. I’ve become so immune to pain. I pictured a future scenario where my lover is more than violent and you’re there watching it. You stare in regret, yet carry on your life by blocking it all out. When did I start seeing relationships as poison? Is this the part where I stop dancing?
I let the unfortunate tear me up after hours, which is then plastered with layers of foundation in daylight to cover the damage. Aren’t I a fool to believe in myself? I’m not doing well.
I’m still losing my mind and it’s no fault but of my own. This existed way before I met you. Weak. The fear of passing left me a long time ago. My future is nothing but the mirror view of a lonesome bachelorette who will bear nothing but green paper. At least I’ll never create a bastard or a still born, right? Lol. Making jokes out of pain, I learnt that from you.
Its late. I need to sleep.
I can’t stand being so lifeless behind the eyes.
Tell me a bedtime story, one where I die in the end.