Can'tkeepdoingthis...

So much is pounding on my insides, trying to get out. Screaming, scratching. Biting, fighting. Gnawing, clawing.. and I'm left with scars.

I'm left with little lines along my skin. Getting deeper, to get in.

In. Out. In. Out. In.. Out.. InOutInOutinoutinoutinoutinout...

Oh, but everything hurts.

"Tell me something"? More like, "let me drag something out of you. Something that'll drag it's claws along your skin, through your stomach, and all the way up the edges of your throat."

Sure, I'll tell you something! But can I lie? Everything inside of me wants out, but it'll tear me into tiny strips of bloody skin as soon as it can if I let it out. So can I lie and say I'm fine? Say that, and still exist?
"No," you say. "No a million times, don't lie to me."
Fine.

More cuts. More scars. More...

THESE WORDS DON'T MATTER TO ME!
Nothing does.

I hurt, sure. But more for you than myself. And I say I don't care...
But I REALLY CARE A LOT! I care.

I Love You.
But sometimes... I just want to fall into the grey...
fuck metaphors.

I want to die.
I'm only here for the ones I love, because I don't want to hurt them, no matter how much they hurt me. Oh, and the pain I feel...

14 years.
I've lived that long.
And that's enough for me.

You're the trigger to my gun. I push you and I die too. So I'm careful with you. One tap, and you're off the edge. You're weightless, and even gravity itself is having trouble keeping you on the ground.
So, "Where do I see myself in twenty years?" To answer your question, I don't. But every other day, "With you."

...if you're still here.