I’m becoming less defined as days go by. Fading away, well I guess you might say I’m losing focus, kinda drifting into the abstract in terms of how I see myself. Sometimes I think I can see right through myself.
Less concerned about fitting into the world. Your world that is. Cuz it doesn’t really matter anymore, none of this really matters anymore.
Yes I am alone, but then again I always was. As far back as I can tell. I think maybe it’s because you were never really real to begin with. I just made you up to hurt myself.
And it worked, yes it did. There is no you, there is only me.
The tiniest little for caught my eye and it turned out to be a scab. I had this funny feeling like I just knew it was something bad.
I just couldn’t leave it alone, picking at the scab. It was a doorway trying to deal itself shut, but I climbed through.
Now I am somewhere I am not supposed to be, and I can see things that I really shouldn’t see. And now I know why…things aren’t as pretty on the inside.
There is no fucking you, there is only me.
Last updated January 09, 2016