Brain Glump

seventy-six

You'll Never Read Me Anyways

-

I scream out for help. I yell and claw my way through a wave of emotions just to try and be seen for once. I hold back things I wish to blurt out, the tantrums I wish to thrash about and the sore throat from screaming I must tame. I must chain it down in the back of my soul to keep it hidden. The crying little girl that only wants to be held. By you? By anyone. To have someone love me. To have you, love me.

I battle through thoughts of falling asleep to never wake up just to warm my heart. I recall every attempt and what ifs to recharge my mind. To calm myself I recount times bad people showed me love to fill a void I own. I writhe in the fantasies that'll never happen to keep myself moving and hoping for something better.

Someday something better with someone that'll show me what it really means to be loved.

I can dump every last feeling in this piece of writing confidently, because you will never want to read me. You will never even think to open me up. What a sad existence I live, and for no one. Nothing. What a sad thing to love. I know why no one will ever read this. I know why no one will ever fill this void. I know why I hide behind a facade. I wish you wanted to read me. I wish I knew better. I wish I knew how to write something you'll come back for. I wish I knew when you'll leave. I wish I knew how to change. I wish I didn't need to change. 

I wish I knew how to read your brain. I wish I knew why you would never love me. I wish I knew what it would take to change me. To be better for you.

I wish I didn't want to change. 

I wish I knew why you don't want me to change. To stay the same. Like this. 

I kind of know.

After everything I have a good guess. Perhaps a coupe. Though it doesn't matter really, You'll never read this.. anyway.