who knew i was such a poet

alone.

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 >>>