Dearly beloved, are you listening?

I erased you. You. You. You. All gone. I am bleakly sick of holding on to someone who chose to be ashes. Ashes to ashes we all fall down. No one's ever gonna be like you. Where is my creative flow? This blank white nothing life. It's there. You cannot ignore it. Can't we all be under a tree during fall? Sitting, watching the leaves fall? I miss hanging Halloween and Christmas decorations. I want to bundle up in that baby blue bubble jacket, with white lip gloss, and go for a walk. I'd walk to that boy who never loved me's house. I'd hope maybe by chance he would be outside as I walked by. That was my biggest problem. You never loved me. If only that were my only problem now. Fact of the matter is, they never actually prepare you for life. Okay, so I know the difference between "your" and "you're" and that y = mx + b, even though I never learned what the fuck that actually means, but they never taught you how fucking awful life really is. They taught you arithmetic, but they failed to tell you how to handle death. I know grammar but how do I manage this heartbreak sense of unfulfilled blankness I find myself trapped in every now and then? All the kids are doing drugs. Nightlife is imaginary. Nothing is attainable that you want to attain. You grow up. You lose everybody you've ever cared about while everyone you never cared about gets everything they've ever wanted. You turn into the complete opposite of what you thought you'd be. You make unattainable goals, mainly set on narcissism and superficial happiness and then fail at almost everything you put your heart into. Your body can heal itself. But what about your mind? Does it ever recover? Everyone is so full of shit. Born and raised by hypocrites. You want to sing and write about how fucked up everyone is, but you forget to include yourself. No one actually cares that you're bruised, no one really gives a fuck that your dog died, or that your relationship that you love so much has come to an unexpected end. No one cares that you eat your heart out every single time you wake up and realize that, yes you were dreaming, and no, you have to wake up and be responsible now. Can't we all live under the sea? Everyone uses you. No one cares, hardly anybody relates. We're all looking for the signs we might have missed; overlooking every piece of evidence. When she jumped, she probably thought she could fly. All these stories are far more beautiful than our own. That's why we pay them our money and a small piece of our souls, or lack thereof. We're all broken enough to be humble. We are all sad individuals. Some of us are just better at hiding it.The songs we listen to are encouraging us to pull all of our hair out, while the media we watch want us to grow it out. How are you gonna just show me the door? While a long lost lover sits and watches? Everyone is sorry. So fucking sorry. I really don't care. I just want some company. I want a bit of regulation to this chaos. I want you. I want you so bad, it's driving me mad. Mad. Mad. MAD. We're all mad here. What goes on inside every crevice of our brains? What is this phenomena? Let's fight. Beat the shit out of me. I want to feel it. Every second of it. I need to be reminded that I am alive. I erased you, you, you, you. And I don't even feel bad about it.