I want you to tell me that it is true what goes on inside my brain.
I want you to tell me that I mean nothing, that everything will go on when I want it to stop and end when I want it to last forever.
I want you to tell me about how I bother you so much you wish you could leave me behind, but your conscience stops you and offers pity instead.
I want you to tell me that she meant it when she didn't even bother to whisper "I made you wrong and I'm so sorry"
I want you to tell me everything means nothing and the universe is a starlit prison no mind will ever manage to escape.
I want you to scream at me, hit me, tell me I mean nothing to no one, that I'm a failure, a disgrace, a nobody and a weakling.
I want you to tell me because maybe, just maybe, I won't accept a single drop of poison dripping from your lips and realize I've been drinking the same liquor from the bottle all along.
