I sit alone, in the dark.
Waiting and waiting for a start.
Waiting for headlights or some sign
that you'll be back,
that you are mine.
I want a mother,
but all I ever get is other.
You are absent to a fault,
so why can't I just take your opinion
with a grain of salt?
Why do your thoughts of matter so,
when all you ever do is go, go, go?
Try as I might, I can never escape
and it always ends with you
running off to your vape.
All I want is someone to care,
someone to love me and cherish me
and see that I'm there.
But instead you run
and I stay behind
fantasizing about a waiting loaded gun.
But you just ignore,
pretend it's all one big nightmare.
Maybe I'm just a chore.
Maybe it's all me.
Maybe if it was a you, not a we.
Maybe you would be a better person.
Am I the cause for all your internal destruction,
the reason for your constant, eternal
devastation?
Maybe the world would be better off without
such a misfit,
maybe it would be best if I just left all my friends
and family to it.
<<< yes, i am fully aware this is cause for alarm. i am also fully alive. well, physically. i'm basically brain dead tho. ok goodnight, see you next time i have a mental breakdown and decide to torture you all with it. sorry. love you mean it, hate you kidding, xx >>>
![](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/358498371-288-k928799.jpg)
YOU ARE READING
who knew i was such a poet
שיריםmy dark, depressing thoughts all jumbled up into one place. i'm gonna try to keep it all poetry, but that might change. ⚠️WARNINGS: s*icidal thoughts⚠️