Walking these streets alone

I've been walking night and day. Running. Crawling. My feet are hurting and so am I. I walk the road that will lead me to you, but it is a mere illusion. The closer that I get to you, the more you seem to move away from me.

Suicide seems like such a comforting thought. Death seems like an immense relief.
"Suicide is painless". Suicide is for cowards. I am a masochist. I take pride in being a masochist.

I bleed it out and you shall never know.
I cry it out and you shall never know.
I break down into pieces and you shall never know.
I die a thousand deaths everyday and you shall never know.
You shall never know me.

I've been thinking about you all night and day, but now it seems like such a waste of my time. My head hurts from all the vodka and cigarettes. I more i try to cling on to the memories of all the good times that we've had, the more they seem to fade away from the corners of my mind.

Smoking pot seems like a good idea. Pot is overrated.

I'm battered. bruised. broken. torn. slit into pieces.
And none seem to have any feelings left for you!

I can do SO much better anyway.

thought cloud

I thought we had it all.
I thought.
I thought.
I thought.
I should'nt have.



If i stop thinking about you, will the pain go away?
You've fucked me up.
I cant get you out of my head.



I feel cheated.
You said that you'd love me forever
and let me in on your thoughts.
What happened to all those promises?



I cant read you anymore.
You've shut me out.
Completely.
I am crying without even realising.
Shit.



I thought we were perfect together.
I thought.
I thought.
I thought.
I still do think.
I should'nt?



Is it me?
Is it you?
Is it someone else?
Is this it?