There's a Monster Inside

There's a monster inside that will not die.
I cannot hide from it, cannot run from it, cannot kill it.
Can only let it swallow me whole.
Can only let it chew on my heart strings.
Can only let it feed on my happiness.
Can only let it suck out the life within me.
And for what purpose?
No matter how much it drinks it will never be alive like I was.

There's a monster inside that will not die.
A parasite that's growing, stretching it's talons out inside.
It fills my body, trying on my limbs for size.
It speaks through my mouth, trying out it's new voice.
It watches with my eyes, using it's new vision.
It uses my veins, pumping them with ink.
And for what purpose?
No matter how completely it takes over my body, it will never be alive like I was.

I'm Falling Apart

I feel like an old rag dolls whose starting to wear thin. My seams are ripping. I'm smudged. I'm missing buttons and pieces. I don't feel hope anymore. I'm tired of smiling for everyone. I'm tired of holding myself up. I just... I want to sleep and not wake up. Everybody seems to have life figured out and I can't... I can't even move. I can't wrap my mind around what it is I've got to do.

I'm starting to fade. I have love. It's what I always wanted. And I would never give it up for anything. But... it's hard when we can't always be together, when he's getting on with his life and I can't move forward. I'm so tired of being stuck in this fucking limbo.

He had such a great day. He finally got that experience that I knew he would and I knew he would love it. He's so ridiculously happy right now. I don't want to ruin it for him. I want to talk about this though, because he's the only one that makes it go away. He takes the pain and makes it disappear. He keeps the calm. I am who I want to be when I'm with him.

So why aren't I with him now?

I don't feel like living anymore. I'm so tired. I'm so selfish. I don't care. I'm tired. I'm falling apart. Pieces of me are falling off. I can't hold up the weight I'm meant to anymore. I am truly weak. Part of me is dead inside and I don't know how to wake it up. I need to wake it up. I need to wake up. I need to feel alive again.

How do you get back up again? There has to be a way. There needs to be. This can't be it. FUCK. I HATE MYSELF.

If I met me, I would fucking kill me.
Just put me out of my damn misery.

I am miserable. I am pathetic. I just want to die sometimes. That scares me and doesn't at the same time. It scares me because I know it's supposed to, but...... it just...... I'm tired of life. I'm tired of starting out thinking today's a new day just to have it be the same and ruined by someone. I'm tired of thinking I'm almost done and then seeing there are still a million switchbacks to go.

This can't be it. I don't want to be a broken human being wandering around waiting for the end. I don't want to keep slipping back down into the pit. I just want to get happy and stay happy. Please. Please PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE. I'm fucking begging you. Let this die. Let this die. Let this die. Please just let this die.

I Just Want to Feel Good Again

I just want to feel good again. There has to be some way. I'm so tired tired tired of trying to pick myself up off the ground. Some days I think I can do it, lift the load onto my shoulders and stand. But most days it's a crushing weight, pushing me through the floor. I still feel alone. I know that I don't have to be, that I'm not in actuality, but it's still there. Feels like this room has become the only safe place besides his arms. Hell, even the hallway outside this door is a war zone, an open field of vulnerability and hurt.

I just want to feel good again.

What am I going to do? I don't know what I'm going to do. Everything falls apart at the end. The only thing I have that's guaranteed to last is him, and I don't feel good enough. I don't feel strong enough. What if I disappoint him? I'm going to drag him down with me. I can feel it. She confirmed it today. Told me she didn't want to see me have to work that hard in life just to support myself. I will always have him, but deep down I know she's right. I'm not going to be able to support him as well as myself. What am I going to do?

I can't even hold up my corner of life now, everyone else is holding up the rest of it for me. What am I going to do when they have to drop it? When I Have to carry it by myself?

They just... can't and don't understand that I am... I'm not able to do this yet. I'm not able to pull myself up and face the day. I don't know why. I want to feel good. I want to feel motivated. I want to live for them, for other people. I don't want to be so self-absorbed. But I am not at the point yet where I can stop. I don't know where that point is either. I keep hoping that one day I'll wake up and everything will be good. Just like that. But really, I know that's not going to happen.

I just want to feel good again.

I want to be able to smile and mean it. I want to want to go out into the sunshine. I want to want to go outside. I want to be able to see the beauty in everything. I want to be the reason someone else smiles and laughs. I want to do so much. I want to want. I need to want. I need to move. They need me to move. Especially her. She wants me to live. I just keep pushing her further back into the cave every time she reaches out to me.

God. I hate sounds. Everyday sounds. I hate beeps, buzzes, car roars, her voice, the fucking television. I hate sounds. Sometimes I wish I was deaf to everything but music.

They just ignore ignore ignore ignore ignore the problem. I am the problem.

Do they know somethings wrong? They have to know. They just don't know the extent of it. They don't know that everyday I think about oblivion. I JUST WANT TO FEEL GOOD AGAIN.

I just want to feel good again.

Give Up - Because it's the Selfish Thing to Do

I finally ran. I ran away from that broken down car, and he followed for awhile, but eventually he stopped. They all do in the end. He tried so fucking hard. I was selfish. A fucking coward. If I could take back the hurt it caused, I'd do it in a heart beat. But I still don't regret doing it. Because I found The One when I was running. He was running too. Now we're walking back together, hand in hand, heart in heart.

He has become the one thing that I give a damn about. We're going slowly, but we're walking back into life with each other. The need to depend on him doesn't scare me. We'll run into the popped tire, the willing puppy, along the way I'm sure. But he's grown too. A dog now, cold to the one who abused him. The one who abandoned him. As he should be.

Everything seems to move too fast and too slow simultaneously. I can't stay caught up with the rest of humanity, but I can't get the fuck out of this limbo I'm stuck in. I keep thinking that once it's all over everything will be perfect. But then I realize that that's not true. It isn't going to be some magical instance where suddenly everything's turned around and the world has a purpose. It's only going to get worse. I'm going to finally finish everything, get to that point that's so far away now, that seems to signal the end of this bull shit, and the disappointment of realizing its not over is going to make it completely unbearable.

I still get suicidal. I still have the urge to swing from the balcony by my neck. But now I have something that holds me back. I will never kill myself because of him. He needs me. I love him. I want to live for him. When I'm with him I don't feel so utterly, completely fucking alone. I feel whole. There is nothing missing with him.

But he's not here. He can't always be and I understand that. Right now I want to go smash my head with a fucking hammer until I fucking die. I won't. I can't. I don't really want to die but I have this irrational idea in my head that I'll be able to come back from it, won't die completely. Just a brief relief from life.

Fuck. I am so God damn selfish. Even now, he knows somethings wrong and is doing everything he can to make me feel better. Why is it always about me? Me me me! I get fucking sick of my hypocritical self. I got my wish. I'm loved, I'm wanted. I have someone else. But I still feel lonely sometimes.

My head fucking hurts. I just want to wake the fuck up for awhile. I'm always awake when he's here. Always feel alive when he's with me. Why can't I be like that all the time? Why does the fucking shit just keep cramming itself back into my head? I think I get rid of it for awhile, think I've finally got it down to a manageable size and then it just fucking explodes like this. For no reason either. Why the fuck aren't their drugs and their "tactics" working? How come nothing works except him? I'm a weak, fucking worm.

God damn it! I'm still focused on me! Always me! I fucking HATE me. How can people stand being around me? OH MY FUCKING GOD SHUT THE FUCK UP ABOUT YOU YOU YOU YOU STUPID FUCKING CUNT!!

I miss him. I miss a lot of things. I miss having friends. I don't really have them anymore. But that's my own fault. I purposely disassociated myself from everyone because I didn't want to deal with the drama. I still don't. Even now, their petty problems, their short vision of the future, their shitty grasp on reality, makes me want to fucking scream. Fuck it. What would that do? I just want to go to sleep so I don't have to listen to them. Why do people just refuse to grow the fuck up at one point? Are they afraid that if they issue forth even an ounce of understanding they're going to be made more responsible? What is it? Why don't they have a grasp on reality?

You're probably telling me to go look in the mirror. Yeah. I know. Everything applies to me too. I never said it didn't. I'm a fucking horrible person and I know it. The difference between them and me though, is that I can admit it.

I wish I could melt into him. I don't want to hold myself up anymore. I don't want to have a spine that I have to support. I don't want to think. I don't want to move. I don't want to do anything except fall into him. Disappear into him completely. Always be with him. I don't want to be here anymore.

God I want this to go away. I wonder what I'd be like without it sometimes but it has to be better than this fucking disease, rotting me away completely, everyday just growing inside of me like the parasite that it is. It's a black puddle of acid and gray cloud of smoke, reaching their limbs through every orifice and poisoning it. I just want it to go away. Please God, please just fucking take this away. I am not strong enough to deal with it anymore. I'm just not that strong.

He is though. He was like me but he got better. He knows. He's perfect.

Cringe - It's the First and Last Reaction

I'm tired. Always fucking tired. And nobody, no big-PhD-holding-know-it-all-doctor can tell me what's wrong. And I know why. Because they don't make pills for a fucked up existence. We can pop our drugs and walk around in a doped stupor for a few weeks, maybe even months if you're one of the lucky ones, but eventually they want to take you off their own cure because they were wrong, it isn't working, it never did. You were simply swallowing a placebo that failed its main function.

I sleep all day because there's nothing better to do, because no amount of effort put into this joke people have created out of life does anything. Not one thing. You try so God damned hard just to see it come back at you with some new fucked up monster born out of their sick and selfish minds. Have you ever seen someone genuinely do something for someone else? Be honest. Think hard. The answer is no. No one does anything for anyone else, no one really, truly cares about anyone else. The only reason anyone does anything is to benefit themselves in some way.

You do it too. We all do. Right now you're glaring at the screen, growing angry because I'm attacking your state of mind. I'm not attacking it. We both know it. There are so few people who ever do anything that doesn't end in their gain in some way or another that it's really become an epidemic. Before you go all ape shit and throw your pride in my face by leaving, humor me and read a little further. Because I'll be the first to admit I do it too. You aren't alone.

I just want to wake up. Every day passes me by, my life sliding over a cliff and pooling up into oblivion at the bottom, unused and disappointing. There's this sick exasperation in my stomach all the time, makes me want to vomit. I can't get past whatever invisible fucking barrier I've run into. And the part that scares me the most, is that sometimes (most of the time) I think I don't want to. Maybe I do just want to stay stuck. It's easy. And when I get to the point of complete and utter wastefulness, I'll realize I want that cliche death, that angsty suicide I've always condemned other people for giving up to. Weaklings. That's what I think of them. They're weak.

"I'll never be like them." I tell myself. But I know it's a lie. There are days I dream about jumping off the balcony with a rope around my neck, waiting for that eventual snap, and the inevitable scream of someone. It's selfish of me, because I want to hurt someone else, scar someone else for the rest of their lives by killing what's left of me in such a way. It's always the same girl I picture screaming. She doesn't even go to my school anymore. She should get out of my head. She'll get lost.

She's a nice girl too. Never did anything to me intentionally. Hell, she left school because she was so much like me. I still hate her sometimes. She's so fucking good. So fucking genuinely good, or so it seems. I can still pick out moments with her when I know she's doing it to make herself look good, especially in front of HIM. Ugh. She's just another walking cunt with the odd good moment. I'd never say this to her of course. If I ever saw her again (assuming she wasn't screaming, staring up at my dangling feet) I'd be as polite as ever, tell her how much I "miss" her and wish she'd come back to school.

Bald faced lie. I'm glad she's gone. It still pisses me off she tries to take in HIM even when she left. She knows he doesn't love her though. Or if she thinks he does, she'll hate me when I take him away. He loves me. At least he says he does. And at least I believe him.

I know I love him sometimes. Rarely to the same extent he feels about me, but when he's gone from my life for a while I begin to fall apart in small ways that grow like ripples. I kind of hate it. No. Not kind of. I do hate it. I hate it more than almost anything. It drives me nuts that someone besides me has control over something inside of myself. I hate not having control. It's me, me is mine, and I'm the one in the God damn drivers seat, I'm the one behind the wheel. He's like a popped tired with no spare or a dead battery on an abandoned road with no jumper cables. Out of my control yet part of me. If I could kill it, I would. Just walk away from the fucking car and start running. But running never works with him. He just keeps coming back, like some stray dog that doesn't know where to turn. Constantly lapping up whatever I have left.

I should be in bed right now, should be getting sleep and preparing for another day, but I don't want to. I hate sleeping now. Something so comfortable and needed and now that's ruined too. Just to crawl back under those covers where I just spent my entire day makes me feel sick. Makes acidic bile rise in my throat. And it's made worse by the fact I know it's no one's fault but my own.

No. That's not true. It's not just my fault. Human beings can't control the chemical imbalances in their brains (don't try to tell me otherwise, I've tried and again, like everything else I put effort behind, it didn't work). If people had just understood, had just backed off when they needed to or had comforted when they knew they should have. If people had just shut the fuck up and stopped dwelling on themselves and their petty problems for five minutes to open their eyes and see a life that needed a hand. No. Not needed. Needs. Fuck. All I wanted was love that didn't smother or demand and freedom without strings attached and worry dragging it down. Why can't I live my life the way I want to? Who said I had to do it the way some fat bastard in a business suit with multiple chins bulging over his sweated out collar decided I should do it? Did I ask for the fuckers' opinion? No. I never voted. There has been no democracy in my life thus far. I just want to live. As in Life. Not "life" as they define it.

I'm tired. Always fucking tired. Tired of this shit hole we've made of the world. Tired of people ignoring what's directly in front of them and giving into the brainwashed ideas nailed into their skulls from birth. Tired of "life" their way. I'm done living for them and expecting them to change, done trying to be what they want. I'm me. And I'm staying that way. Love is no longer the goal of my life, to find one human being who cares about anything but themselves. I've met few and still expect they really aren't who they appear to be. I'm going out alone. It's the best way now, the right way. There's no point anything they try to make me do and I don't need them. They think I do, and that's what fucks them up, screws with their heads, is that I openly show them I don't need them. They can't accept it and it sparks some modern day instinct to enrage, to believe there's something wrong with me, to try and strap me down to a table and swallow their drugs so I can forget life for awhile and be the robot they want me to be.

No more. I'm done.

A Little Bit Melodramatic - Existing. Not Living.

-For Alex

HeyUm... I don't know really what to say. I guess you've noticed I haven't been to school in a while, and I'm sure you'ved guessed that its because I "didn't feel like going" like last time. I'm not here to whine and I feel like a retard sending you this but in all honesty, you're all I've got.

My life is not my own. I can accept that. I can't accept that I can't change it though, I know I can change it. I just don't know how. I'm in a trap right now. A big, suburban trap. I'm not living so much as just existing you know? People get told throughout their lives that this is what they're supposed to want (I know right? Spoiled little rich girl wwhining about having everything under the sun just handed to her). But this whole lifestyle, of doing nothing meaningful from day to day, nothing ever changing, that self centered mind set of pretty much everyone around you, its just a trap.

Everybody tells you that life is short and yet they tell you you need to prepare yoursefl for it. But by the time you're done preparing, its seems like life is already over, that all those chances you had to do something are gone because you spent all your time preparing for it.

I'm afraid. This isn't how I ever pictured my life going. When I was little, I wanted to be a dentist, or a singer, or something that I thought was so important. But now that I've reached a point where I can see the difference between the importance in life and the image of whats important, I know that I can't just sit here and wait for fate to come knocking at my door and say, hey! let's go! I know whats important now. I know that the preservation of life, that changing even just one person's life for the better, that's the real thing. That's the real point to being human.

My mother doesn't see this. She just wants to get through life with no problems, lay down in her death bed and say okay, I did it. My dad sees it the way I do, but lives in fear of my mother and the pressure of my sister. He's afraid of taking this lifestyle away from us, but I've told him, I wish to god he would. I'd rather be a poor, happy farmer than a rich unhappy suburbanite.

This sounds corny as hell, but I want to see the world. I only get one chance on this earth and I don't want to get through it without having experienced what it has to offer. I don't want to die and regret the wrong things. I want to be able to die and say maybe I didn't do the best, but I lived.

At the same time, I'm horrified of stepping outside of this box. I'm the prime example of what society says I should be. That I should just find my niche in this place, that I should be afraid of what I don't understand, that I should be afraid of the world outside my sheltered little life. My life consists of two points. Home. School. Back again. Nothing changes, theres no point. Hell, I'm afraid to leave the house right now, get on the train and go somewhere, go see things in my own hometown I've never seen.

My mother says I'm naive, and on alot of aspects I am. But I know the world is big ugly place, I know theres things in it that aren't rainbows and butterflies, I've experienced things she doesn't even know about. But at the same time, theres got to be something good out there. Nothing is going to change unless someone starts it. I just don't know how.

You probably don't care about this, and in all honesty, I don't blame you. I'd be pissed if some stupid little brat sent me a long ass letter just complaining about how "horrible" her life is, too. But like I said, you're all I've got. I know, its kind of sad hey? I mean, it's not like we're really that close. I kid myself sometimes that we are, but I know underneath we're really not. It's just that... it's like you've got it all figured out. You're chill about everything, you're smart, you're a better than decent guy and you seem... happy. Just happy. And you put up with my bullshit, so you're officially some sort of superhuman. So, now that I've hit this wall, I don't know what to do but turn to the only person I consider a human being still. Everybody I was stupid enough to let myself believe in has managed to show me their true colours, that they just don't care. I'll always be there for them, but I can't hope to find anything in return, and really, I don't want anything in return, I'm just glad I managed to make their day a little bit better somehow. But at the same time, I'm still afraid of being alone. I don't want to wake up anymore and wonder if anyone even cares that I did.

On My Side of the Window

I like the feel of glass against my face. It's the closest I can bring myself to reality. The door is right there, next to hopefully waiting shoes. But going out there means making contact with the inhabitants of planet earth. How the hell did I get here? I wish I could just run out into the grass, feel the rain just rip through my bare skin. It'd be too soon if I never heard another car ever again. If I never heard another voice again.

Why does someone else, someone who doesn't know me, get to decide what happens in my life? It's mine! It's one of the few things that is completely and utterly mine with no strings attached. Why are people trying to take it away from me? It's not theirs! Its fucking mind rape. They're molesting my fucking soul.

I hate the feel of their fat, crawling fingers reaching into me and grabbing constantly at my thoughts, as if my mind weren't concious and doesn't realise what they're doing. I want that one hand, educated and ready, strumming the strings of my soul like a guitar. I hate this fucking clawing hand thats just ripping at my thoughts.

Why is it there? Fuck OFF. That's all I want! I just want the world to fuck OFF for a little while. Let me be utterly alone to cry. Let me be alone to smile. Just let me be alone for a time.

I want to lay down in that meadow in my head, smell that sweet tall grass, hear that brook a ways off, feel the sun on my face. I want to close my eyes and know when I open them, this good feeling isn't just a dream. I want that beauty of peace, of love. I want it more than I can possibly express. I find myself realising at times that the reason I'm moving through life at all is because in the back of my mind, I believe it exists and that I will get there someday.

Have you ever felt like a piece of meat? A giant slab of ground beef being held up by a skeleton and some skin. Thats what I feel like sometimes. One big hunk of slaughtered cow. I should be laughing at that. But morbidly enough, I'm not because its all too real.

I want to feel foreign hands on my torso, drawing gently across my stomach, tracing up my arms, trailing down my thigh, clasping behind my back, caressing behind my ears and along my neck, dragging their thumb across my lips, outlining my eyelids and arching over my cheeks. I want that feeling of complete love. I want to feel those rays of light on a spring day that cut through the glass. I want to taste that real fruit, cut those peaches and pears in my hands, with a smile on my face, because I know, everything is going to be okay.

I want it. But I can't get it. Its like I've run into a ceiling. And above this ceiling, is the floor where all this is reality and takes place. But I can't get through to it because I'd just end up destroying it. Because She's not gone. She's the one that fucked up my head, She's the one that doesn't shut up, She's the one that fucking ruins everything. She's that fucking voice that I can't silence. Sometimes, She sleeps, and I get to come out. But She always wakes up and shakes the chain She's got around my neck.

I want to push through that window. Reach out again... fall out into my imaginary reality.