10.13.03 - 1:24

i'm sorry. i couldn't be what he needed me to be, i couldn't be what you wanted me to be. i'm broken inside and i think about him mostly because i know he's far away and not right and nothing will ever come of it. the nothing of it is less frightening sometimes than what might have been. i don't know. i'm lonely and it's nice to be hugged, nice to feel wanted. but i'm an empty space, a black hole, sucking down what you throw at me and giving back nothing in return. i'm sorry. maybe it's better just to close the door and walk away when i know i have nothing to offer.

you called and then you called again and again and again and i heard the chill in your voice and i worried. the past keeps coming back and sometimes she tells me that the past didn't go anywhere and maybe that's true but i feel like everyone else is allowed to move on. and they're running faster and faster while i spin my wheels, tangled in ropes of memories that won't let me go. they don't even belong to me anymore. i'm watching myself, watching my reflection form in front of me, watching it fade away.

i'm disappearing. i've forgotten what i'm made of. the room is always so hot around me and i'm always so cold deep down inside. i'm taking off my socks, my jeans, my jacket, my shirt, it's still so hot, so stiflingly hot. finally you have to stop because there's nothing else you can toss aside. i'm lying here in the dark, on top of the covers, the breeze playing across my tear-wet cheeks. i'm not sad. i don't feel a thing.

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