If I reached for you to touch you, could I feel you? Or would wind simply grasp my fingertips? What is to come of me? Where do I belong? Do I belong in my father's groin? On the floor dying within
48 hours, digesting in round acid? 8 feet below? In the air at 200 feet?
I don't know.
In my head I have woes. Woe is me, woe is me. Wishing I were completely selfish. Wishing I never cared for myself at all. The ache inside I deny and pretend does not exist, but moments of weakness presume and consume me into great euphoria of hell. They tell me not to feel so I don't. They tell me to feel and then I do, but when I do, I die more inside. I die and I die again wishing I would stay dead, wishing I never had to open my eyes.
Emotions, such a weakness.
Why feel when no one gives you the reason to? Everyone is against me, including myself. He just wants me for my body, she just wants me for entertainment, they just love me because they have to.
I never feel complete, sure, whole. I feel wholeness in the void of death. I'm sure that I want to die because I know I'll leave nothing behind. But what if I'm wrong? What if all of these doubts are fiction and the love for me people contain within themselves are for the same reasons as I?
Curse me for my weakness.
Hatred and anger against myself grows because I should not feel this. I should be dead inside, why does it matter, why do I need somebody, why do I want you? Why do I want your love? Why do I want you to complete me? It's not in my cards, so why try to deal?
I love, I help, I give, I care, those are my deeds. But getting them in return is not in my path, but I want it to be.
Frustration rises within me.
I want you to take it away, prove me wrong, show me I'm worth loving, but every day I'm proved right, I'm all on my own and I'm beginning to not be able to hide and lock it away anymore.
I do not want this. I do not want life if I'm forbidden to enjoy it.
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