Feel out of touch with my reality. Feel like I'm reduced to going through certian motions, as if I was going round in circles, not finding myself going anywhere, but yet not where I started from. I'm changed, bit by bit, but unaware of what actually is changing.


I bleed, from where you pierced me,
From all the cracks that revealed themselves slowly
Formed by the illusion of hope, of expectations.
What you offered me, decaying to cold, cruel detachment,
Twisting my naive mind to knots of hurt and confusion.
Regrets come too late, tears come too fast.

Words fail me.

Disappointment chokes me.

Scram. Leave. Go. Before I lose control.