Yes. I like looking completely hideous; I do it for a living. And yes. I know everything I say never comes out the way you think I meant it too, but I know exactly what I’m saying. Of course! I intend on spending my life alone. You think I actually want real friends?!
Maybe if I keep up the lying, I’ll actually mean it for once.
Have you ever been called beautiful before? [or handsome…] Didn’t it just put a smile on your face to think someone actually found you attractive? And wasn’t it even better because you knew they meant it? Well, I don’t know how it feels. I don’t know how it feels to be found attractive.
Because I never will be. Will there ever be a day when someone will say, “you know, you’re really pretty”? Just once. So maybe, for that one moment, I won’t have to look at myself with disgust. I just feel like purging my stomach of all its sins. Maybe then you’ll call me beautiful. Maybe then people will want to talk to me. Maybe everything will get better.
I always try to sound clever. Somehow it always comes out as something utterly idiotic. I hate that the words I always plan in my head never come out the way I wished they would. I stumble over my words and that just ends in convincing myself not to try the whole “speaking thing” again. Maybe that’s just what I should do. Just stop speaking for once. I could try the whole “don’t talk without being spoken to” thing. Besides, when did people actually appreciate my opinion as they do everyone else’s. I’m that litte piece of the crystal that gets chipped away when the crystal becomes a jem. I just want to be wanted. Would you listen to me for a second? Hear my stories and insecurities? Tell me that I’m not the only one that so desperately needs a hole to die in ASAP. Is that all I deserve? A death secluded from everyone. My greatest fear to die alone and be forgotten like every nobody you pass on the street.
I want to be more to you. Not just that little girl that bumps into you on the street because she was too busy looking into the sky. I’ve got dreams, I want to be something. Send me my revolution on first class please. I’ve got a stamp and a cardboard box as big as you need. Mail me someone’s heart and I’d give them mine. If you lost your soul mate, I could be yours. I’d swear my life to you. My life wouldn’t exist without you; you could be my everything. But do you want me? Will you want me?
I’m falling apart like snowflakes melting upon the eyelashes of the girl you love; the girl I wish I was. Could I be her is you never saw me again?
This gamble of life and love is a risk we’re all willing to take.
Now, I would sit here and ask you, “what is the meaning of life?” Well, the key word: would. But you see, I’ve already found it and “what is this you’ve found?” you may ask. Oh, I’ll tell you all about it.
The meaning of life? Be beautiful at whatever means necessary -that’s right, go Machiavelli on all their asses-. And I don’t mean being kind and intelligent or all that inner beauty crap. You’ve got to be fucking attractive. I’m not even talking about the “comfortable in your own skin” shit. I’m talking drop dead… anorexic. I mean, you’d make billions of dollars selling your body on the cover of magazines. Every guy would be at your feet, ready to do anything you said. Why bother with pride when you can brag to all your buddies about your 1 calorie girlfriend? Why did I ever hope to find my true love when I can’t even stand to look at myself? All the people in the world, they wouldn’t ignore me if I was a size 0. They wouldn’t mock me if I purged myself of breakfast, lunch, and dinner. They wouldn’t look at me the way they do if I weighed a negative amount.
Why breed animals when you can do the same with eating disorders? Why feel lonely when all you have to do is starve? Appearance is everything, and if you’re not thin you might as well move into Hell. I mean, why would someone eat at all when they can. be. dead.
Take some pills,
It’ll all come up again.
I could be your Barbie
Anorexic’s where it’s at.
Slim down, I want to see
Every single rib.
What else would you want to be?
This is being beautiful,
It’s only 1, 2, 3.
Memories are all just pennies swimming inside a wishing well, can’t I take them all back? I want to stop remembering you. I was once innocent, wasn’t I? Your every words is carved into my grave; they’re all I need to breathe. There was once a time where you sid you loved me. There was once a time where you didn’t need to ask my name.
Lonliness isn’t just my state of mind; it is me. Living. Breathing.
Tell me I’m doing this for the masses. I’ve got 95 Theses to prove you wrong. This isn’t a fashion statement and I’m not faking a thing. It confuses me as to why someone would want to be desperate for some breath of life. I lost my voice and I’m trapped inside my mind. I don’t want to be like this. I don’t want to miss you this badly. I don’t want it to hurt this much.
Call me melodramatic. I’d never disagree with you. I stratch everything as far as it goes. There’s a million more lies to come. Lies are like headaches, they come with you and me.
Could you stop yelling for a moment, so I could get a word in? My ears are ringing with all those critiques you spit at me. I’ve got a phone call to no one in particular. Will you pick up? Tell me one more time that everything will be fine in the end. Maybe I could convince myself to believe you this once.
I’ve got a secret, don’t tell anyone else. I wish I could love you, so maybe I could get all this shit out. Maybe I could sing you to sleep and we could be happy ever after. I could be a damsel in distress for you. I could save you if that’s what you wanted. I’m a star-crossed lover that’s crossed one too many paths. I’m death. I’m dying. I’m all alone again. I’ll love you forever and after. Just this once, I’d give up myself for you.
This is three and a half years all down the drain. And I’m not sure how I feel. Maybe I’m just selfish and jealous, maybe I’m going insane. I’m lonely and I feel like putting myself out there. Is this an allergic reaction? I bang on hearts like doors screaming, “LET ME IN!” I just wanted you to know that you win.
I’m sure you’re gone by now, and I’m sure I’m sick. Maybe you’ll never read this. Is anyone out there? I lost my key in. This is a lose/lose situation. Here’s the biggest trophy for leaving me, I hope you know you’re not the only one. I’ve got accustomed to losing. And I’m used to the pain. I’m tired of writing to no one, this just doesn’t feel the same.
I’m a different body, trapped inside the same skin. You’re red like poison invading my bones and I’m trying to shake it off. I can’t get you out of my mind. Here’s an internal horror movie staring
love lust, lies, and envy. It’s getting tiring to hear inspirational words, like “everything will be fine.” I’m not fine and you’re no where close, I guess we’re losing our minds. But maybe that’s the one thing we’ve got in common.
Tantalizing lies, they mock; they scream; they shout. I’ve got the vocabulary of a five-year old, but I’m cleaning you out. It’s time to live out your words, I’m tired of emptiness. Stop chasing shadows and diving deeper into some anonymous complexity. I’m on my knees, now. You’ve got me begging for you. Just give me something to hold onto because I’m never letting go again.
“Holding onto patience, wearing thin.
I can’t force these eyes to see the end .
If only time flew like a dove,
We could watch it fly and just keep looking up.”
– “Hallelujah” by Paramore
This isn’t what I paid for,
It’s not what I wanted
Lies revolving around innocent minds
Dealing out cards for the game.
You’re alwasy telling us,
What we see in you is real.
Well, I see a faker, a liar, a cheater
I see a guy that fakes his act together
Let’s just keep it at,
I don’t like what I see.
Book of lies
Worth every word
I’m drinking illusion
Slaying a dragon
There’s breaking down
And fading out
One sided mirror
We’re everything lost.
It splutters and spits our affection
From the mouth of a wave
Oh what forgives us from the mouth of sin
Death is painted upon our wings
Like the feathers of fallen angels
Tell me the melody
It isn’t just an excuse for falling in love
There’s lies on my lips
Blood red as they stain
Are you running from me?
Hearts on my wrists,
Small doodles for an infinite cause
Love isn’t an excuse for doing my best
I’m no sun, no golden light
For you I’d swallow and drink this affection
Like acid burning through steel
You’re creeping up on me
And down my throat goes all those words
Every word I meant to say.
This isn’t resentment
And I’ve got no resistance left in me
Do you know how to disappear?
Just passing conversation
In a dream, we live
I’m not me or anyone else.
We live in clouds,
Storm clouds that is.
I don’t feel like being me.
Breathe and exhale
Just passing conversation
Nip and tuck personality
Can you see the sickness in my eyes?
Jokes, just jokes
Is it wrong being me?
I’m not sure what I’m writing about or what I’m trying to say; my fingers tingle from the lack of use. Tell me you still love me and you still care. Tell me I’m the same person I was yesterday.