Smile.

This is just a pent-up-poetic-rant.
And an awesome picture I found.

Ready? Set...y? Go.

I'm really tired.
Like the bird who has to fly north from the arctic.
Death seems nice right now.
Eternal sleep?
Amen to that.
That's the whole "heaven" of it.
My heaven is just a nice, warm, cozy bed.
And being able to push snooze infinite times.
I'm a walking zombie.
I'm half listening to every sound.
I only half mean what I say.
I'm a mess. In a dress.
Trying to get through this.
11:11 Make a damn wish.
I wish the clocks would ALL just stop.
And we could just step back and

breathe.


Inhale.










exhale.
I only feel my heart break when I let my sleep take over me.
Because it's in my dreams that my mind screams,
"You are a lonely broken mess.
And you just want to have
what you're so used to having.
But guess what? You can't have it.
He isn't him. He isn't him either. They're not anything
like one another, and they shouldn't be.

I think I have this constant need to feel loved.
That's all I live for- to feel loved.
I find all self-assurance and self-insurance in love.
And the monthly payments are sending me spiraling into a debt I cannot pay.
I've got horrid credit.
And I'm in the hole.
Deeeeeeeeeeeeeep.
I cannot see the light anymore.
And it's not so much that I feel alone,
but it's the fact that I still am falling.
I still haven't reached the bottom.
And I think I'm dragging him down with me.
And he deserves better than that.

You know, I don't really like him that way.
He's just... convenient.
He's chill. Commitment free.
And he is slightly falling for me.
And so, as I am dragging him down the well that is me,
he thinks it's love.
But it's a trap.
And he'll regret this. Unless I end it.
And I'M TRYING, oh I am. But he refuses to listen.

I need a spotlight.
I need a stage.
When I'm up there, for some ironic reason, I don't need love.
I feel at home without anyone next to me.
Even with the audience empty, I get high off it.
My heaven will be an infinite musical.
My life is an infinite musical.

I need sleep.