Gifted

Being here is my occasional reminder that…

I don’t know when I’ll stop coming back every time in hopes that I’ll feel better, only to leave feeling more distraught and unworthy. And I know, that I need to get away from here. This place needs to become out of my reach.

A hopeful, amnesiac moron; always walking back into the dark, dry cave with bright eyes and a curious heart, as if you haven’t taken this same road hundreds of times before. As if the bats haven’t eaten your physical form away ages ago.

When all is said and done, love has the strictest conditions, and every item in her closet is weaved out of smoke. Needless to say that none of them will ever fit you. When love notices your presence and realized the power she has over you, you might have to get your corpse burnt and your heartstrings sown together with the smoke to make her a new piece. You always have to compensate for what you thought was yours and took without asking.

I wonder if I’ll ever deserve to recieve even the faintest traces of love without having to pay for them in sanity points.

It makes me sad to know that we’re tied together with this chain you’ve put around your ankle from one end, and my heart from the other. I am too tired of being dragged. Sometimes it feels like the only solution would be the death of one of us, and I’d rather it be me.

Oh, mother, mother,

~♥~