I’ll spread myself across the computer screen because it’s more fun to imagine the worst possibility than to be rejected. Tell me some thing that will soften my heartbeat and I’m sick of these unheard e-love confessions. Should I apologize for fantasizing about someone that doesn’t exist? Because I don’t know who you are and I’ve already accepted that I’ll die alone. I burn friendships because red strings could never keep us together. I’m alright, really. I’m here for a temporary fix when no one’s around, but I won’t find a white butterfly to fly through the air. I’m not resentful either because I won’t let you excite my tears.
Maybe someday I’ll be beautiful.
I’m carving my love confessions into my heart until it bleeds through my bleak innocence. This is my birthday present to you. “I’m sorry that you loved love more than you ever loved me.” I’ll always apologize for your mistakes because you don’t even look at me anymore. You don’t even know me anymore… if you ever did. This is my blissful memory of something painful. I’m not a masochist, I swear. I’ve just become accustomed to burning in the hot fires of Hell. Will you tie me down, so I never have to think about escaping? It’s alright like this. It’s alright being alone.
I’m a broken cliché for a beautiful suicide.
Will you see me when my brains are splattered against the back wall? I’m carving your mark into me because you’d never leave it there. I like to read about fantasies that will never happen. I spend more time in my mind than I do with you. And with my last breath I’ll tell you, “You’re my most important person,” while I write your name in my blood.
Can’t you see? You’re killing me.
Rikki [not romance]