Loving for me is like sky diving out of a moving plane for others.
Me keeping calm is like breathing for others.
Impossible.
Screw you and you for making me incapable to hold on tight to him.
Genuine and pure.
I know the want he fathoms from me is true.
He wants me and I keep holding out for you.
You're something stupid I use to adore, now I'm laying on this carpet stained floor.
I'm out of the house and willing.
Willing for a second go around with you.
The boy that refuses to grow.
I'm just the girl that yearns to find a fixation aside from the one I've attained towards you.
If I could kill, would I press the cool, steel, nose to the temple of that whom I cannot vanish from my skull?
To silence the begging, continuous thoughts of a facade.
And push.
Shoot me instead.
The dead welcome my mediocre pain.
Kids starving in the streets, inevitably dying.
And here I am mindlessly scribbling your name on vacant parts of my decaying flesh.
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