Paper Planes

- dear diary -

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry for what I've become, I never meant for this to happen. To be completely honest I could've never imagined to be who I am now.
A shell.
A shell; that's what I am now.
Void of expression yet filled to the brim with emotion.

I'm sorry for the sheer fear that ignites in me,
when I see the vast reality
of all that is there and all that is going to be in this world.
I guess it's the narcissist in me, I just cannot handle the thought that there are others in this space-time continuum- funny when I am but an insignificant occupant.

I'm sorry for thinking that my existence matters.
I don't pity myself, no, but I've come to see through the mirage of my speciality.
To see through the propaganda that I am unique, that we are all unique. And I'm sorry for thinking otherwise.

I'm sorry for the desperation that has taken over me.
Pathetic is what it is.
To tell the truth, it's terribly sad.
To be aware of my pathetic state and not do anything about it.
Maybe it's the naive little girl in me.

I'm sorry for caring so deeply that it has taken a part of me.
For baring my soul.
I had thought they cared the same,
but I stand corrected.
My soul has been crushed and left choking
All because I cared
too much.

I'm sorry for trying.

Thank you.