Become a real person.

Posted: November 17, 2011 in transliteration

This is where I sleep.
This is my personal space.
I am inviting you to look at my best kept secret; the closest physical representation available

of my mind

breaking.

I haven’t painted in almost four years.
My writing is gone.
You took it.
I told you it was the only comfort I had.
You.
You were the only comfort I had, and you pushed me away
as sick
and delusional.

Of course, I fucking know I’m sick!
Jesus Fuck.
Only the most unperceptive could miss what I can’t hide.

I never hid this from you.

Look at this.

Look at me.

Look.

I’m still a human being.
I know I don’t matter, and I know that I’m sick.
Was I really that greedy?
You saw me.

You saw me.

I’m so quiet.
I so rarely even seek attention.
I almost never show this.

I trusted you, and I know that’s my fault.
I know it’s not on you.
None of this is on you…but you saw me.

You saw me and deliberately turned away.

I’m not going to get better this time.
I don’t want to.

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