Crying incessantly (areyoudependent,littlegirl? areyousane,littleone? areyoueverythingieverwanted? ofcoursenot, butthatistobeexpected.) over things I can no longer recognize, a faint mist over my spirits that feels nothing like the dawn, only like the endless night that forever encompasses my soul. A depression that no longer lifts, merely holds me in its embrace like a tender caress gone wrong, a feeling no longer wished for because its grasp has become too tight, too restrictive.
(chains, endlesschainsthatcovermysoul. awrongturn, wheredidigo? theendlessmovesthatican'tdancetoanymore. ican'tdance, ican'tdance, ican'tdance...)
Where did the little girl go, whose best friend was a cat bought next to a laundrymat? A friend who left with no goodbyes. Everyone leaves, without a farewell, my life ending in one swift movement over and over, as if my finger is shoved mercilessly on the "replay" button.
(canyoureleaseme?)
Pain is beauty. Beauty is blood. Blood is life. Life is the end of me. The end of me is coming near, and no one will notice if I'm gone.
(wouldyounotice? i'msopretty, iloveeveryone, i'msohappy... i'lltrytobe, ipromise, whoeveryouwantmetobe... stopleavingme, please)