Posted

Aug 24th 2008

Mood

Lonely

August 17, 18:05

I’m growing cold and lonely without human touch.
I want to make it, a chance, a scream, a hit, a crush, a warmth, a shoulder, a hug, a cold chick, an agreement, an argument. A something. Just give me anything to grasp onto while I’m falling into… this.
You keep me loose and hanging miles high from the back of your shirt. Like a burden, like shit. Because I’m fucked up and you know it. Because I’m fucked up and let it get the best of me. Or worst. Or anything to keep you away. I thought, I dared to, and I’m not so sure if I was worth all the pain. I am a pain. And I curl up to that spikey ball again when you touch. But I worth it, am worth of use. So I’m here, begging you to use me and fuck me and leave me and let me die in my own sorrow of emptiness. Hit me where it hurts the most. Suck my blood out, drain me, hurt me. Just hurt me so I can be free again.
Just use me. Trust me, I’m worthy.

August 23, 18:34

Tell me that you need me
and let me be whole again.


I wanted too much got nothing out of nothing. I make nothing from everything and kiss for the taste. Kill for the taste. I’m breaking slowly yet try to stay strong. Pretending to be, because I’m fragile, because I’m small. Because you’ll never care about me truely, deeply. Because I’ve been a sin for most of my life. Because I’m the burden you carry around on the floor.
So just tell me that you want me, that you need me, that I’m more than a body to use. I haven’t been seen for most of my life and you have made me glow with my white skin, bruising me as I cry for help. Slapping me for being selfish. And I’m so used to, I’m such a has been.
I can fake it like I always do, but it shows underneath it all, when I strip down for wet strangers’ fingers. I’ve been keen for most of my life. Now I’m as indifferent as your eyes. You painted mine black. I want to taste, and fuck, and scream, and reach out for a something. Like a god, like whatever you believe in. And I know I’m the worst out there anyone of you can get. The bottom of the lowest of the filth and dirt. The small bone behind your neck.
Crush me, make me feel anything. Just let me fall while not reaching for a hand. Whenever I get one I bite it so hard it bleeds. Whenever I don’t I blame myself for fighting and fucking up. My sentences are never ending, never making it to a certain point.
I only want to fill myself up where the holes are still gaping. And it hurts, but I brought this upon myself, and though you’ll never see this (though I hope you will) you should know that I cannot do better or try harder. I’ve been sick for most of my life. I’ve been a teen for most of my life. And I cannot make it to the other side; Where you lay waiting for me, awake.

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