You crash. You burn.

Knock knock. Who is it? This one is for the books. I wonder what's greater, the amount of time we stay asleep, or the amount of time we stay awake? Amazing how someone can be such a fucked up individual that they release sorrow from the things done to them but then do them to others as well. No one man is greater than the next. We all have little maps within our tissues and organs displaying the people we will become. You always become the thing you hate the most. I had forgotten what panic felt like. It was me wanting to cry, me wanting to let it out, but being physically unable to do so because I have become so used to this feeling. So? I lost my breath. Panic attack into an asthma attack. Yeah, thanks for that. Bad habits will never actually go away. They just dwell in the back of your mind until you think its okay to let them out. Then you remember why you put them there in the first place. The drugs, the feelings. You usually lock them away. Strange to me how a heart can become such a cold hard callous over the time of it being beaten. This isn't as bad as it used to be. But that one little needle pushed into it hurts but only because its a reminder of what its become. Why am I always fighting? I'm always exhausted, yet for some reason I am unable to sleep. The brick walls I put up for other people to knock down I've realized I've been trying to knock them down for them and pull them in here. The warmth of the sheets in my bed are far better than the false warmth within your soul. You'll live your whole life being absolutely nothing but a let down. You fucking know it too. The cold crept into my feet and the sun started rising. I almost liked it. It made my toes just as numb as the inside of me. Half of me wants to feel it, but the other half just isn't ready. In fact, it was humorous. I try so hard to allow people to use me to make themselves happy. Maybe that's it. The worth of each individual shouldn't be measured by how much you need them. They should be worth as much as any other. You are the epitome of every single thought of angst, loneliness, and heartbreak ever put to paper, screen, melody, or brush. And you will feel it vicariously through the way you are to other people. Every single prick or pain I've ever felt bubbled up to the surface...only to fizzle away. I am in search of somebody to lay beside until the demons go away. I want to sit in the middle of my floor with paint and a canvas with music playing and just keep going until I pass out from lack of energy or creativity. How many times will I drive past my father's grave whilst the rain makes love to my windshield? How many times will I refuse human kindness merely so I can be the one everyone loves to hate? Don't even blink. You kiss every known scar on her body as if your lips were magic and could take the pain of the past away. She can feel your breath on the tips of her hair filling her with warmth and fear. Every single word you've ever let fall off your tongue is a representation of the misfortune that is... you. We all know what will happen. In the back of our minds, we fear and are anxious about the ending that we know is coming. Yet, we choose to ignore it until it presents itself to us but, we are only half blinded by the sting that consumes us. Think about it tomorrow. Never really coming to terms with the hurt of yesterday. Pretending and wishing it all away until one drunken night of open doors reminds you of every single pinch that makes you the human you have become. The youth of your formal self is most likely disgusted of the lack of ambition you've manifested. We always become the thing we hate most. what we swore we would never become. We give ourselves ideals of the perfect goal, the perfect body, the perfect mindset when in actuality each and every single one of us are falling apart at the seams on the inside and the worse we feel, the bigger we smile. Someone always has it better, someone always has it worse, but our pain, our suffering, our madness is the only thing that is completely all our own. His sorrow was uninformed. The tears and rips inside our souls are always going to be there. Some people just bring them out more than others. Our faces are nothing more than paper mâché starting to crack and break from all the years of use. All I want is for someone to notice the little things I do. Someone other than my inner inhibitions. The faint smell of cigarettes on your clothes, the taste of bubble gum on your mouth, the sound of the hums you sing to yourself quietly in kitchen in the morning. They all deserve to go without being unnoticed. That feeling you get when a stranger's scent reminds you of someone you once cared for but you can't seem to place your finger on whom. You remember random memories of your childhood- having no idea that this is where you were going to end up...still having not a clue of where you're going. Shake off the feeling of abandonment, betrayal, being unwanted. Put them away for another day. Never facing the nuances of the shades of feelings towards someone else. Its always the same feeling of yearning, it just misshapes itself every time you allow yourself to want another human being. Tricking you in all its cunning and clever idiosyncratic methods. What is it exactly? It isn't quite love, but its more than attraction. Its feeling the resonance deep down within your bone marrow of passionately stretching an arm out for someone to grab you. Yank you. Pull you. Jerk you. inwards towards them. and them curling you to their body, squeezing you with all their might as if you were drowning underwater and their very touch is oxygen to your water filled lungs. No one has ever tried to save you. Nobody has ever taken the time to noticed you needed saving. They sit their heavy body blatantly on your chest, wiggling around, weighing you down, cutting off your circulation, then when they get off? They leave. My mind is filled with lackadaisical efforts that have turned into absurd jokes. You are a fucking joke. My fingers cramp from stretching them toward you. I can feel you spitting on me inside your mind. Hope you know it. You are the epitome of everything you've never wanted to be. Sometimes, its worth it. Do you feel like its worth it?