If You Only KnewMature

    This is where it stands. I haven’t even begun to scratch the surface and already it’s starting to fester. I’m crying out your name, but I know you’ll never hear it. Screaming all the voices in my head trying to escape. I’m confined by the very nature of my soul. It hurts to watch everything and crumble into the abyss.
    I'm horrid at building bridges. Our conversations spiral and I am lying in a state of dreams. I could spend hours wishing that for once you would see me waiting for you. Perhaps, you might even want to be near this sordid excuse of a creature. How could I ever think that just for a moment you might want this broken doll?
    The movement of the sun lets me know that I am darkening. Fading away to nothingness I envy every essence of your love. I’ll never know the warmth from that fire. Instead I’m burning in frustration. This poor dying skeletal frame is weak from the weight of this treacherous torment. The pain is relentless, and I can see my suffering reflected on the walls.
    Take a moment to process just what I have laid down as a foundation. Do you know what it’s like to feel the tortured inspiration pierce the mind? Have you ever pondered how insignificant each moment is? Do I make myself clear when I cover every inch of my life with a lie?
    I’m dying. Watching me I truly wonder if any of it makes sense. Do you wish that I could behave? Sit in a chair face the wall and watch the shadows dance before me? I have enough demons that I don’t need to play with yours. If only your angels were nicer. I’ve not met them but I can only imagine that they wouldn’t appreciate my anguish.  
    Admittedly I am in fact purely pathetic. Crawling everyday, wishing I could surface instead of drowning. You know how it is, the same repetitious rhyme scheme systematically displayed on a routine. Do you see how unhinged I have become?
    My circuit board won’t transmit your call, I know, the wire’s been cut. It was too easy. Watching it all slip past. I could have stopped it, kept it from boiling over, but where is the fun in that? Might I remind, you that all of this is meaningless. I don’t want you to think that I’m fighting for an empty casket. I’ve filled plenty of hopeless vessels with my tears. You can’t accept the distractions from my daily deliverance. I want something that is in the purest form. Not this processed regurgitated mess, that feeds on the lost ideas of a generation forgotten. I’m fighting to gain consciousness. I haven’t surfaced for air or even opened my eyes for years. I’m blinded by insanity.
    Laughing I can hear the echoes inside my heart. I love every inch of what I can’t possess. I am slithering my way towards a perfect ideal, shattered by the very notions that have created it.

The End

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