'this is dig of you'. you dont love me. that's why you never make time. a walk home, fifteen minutes, speak too soft to say i love you and hug to quickly to know if you could hear my heart beating. you only give me half. maybe i'm selfish and maybe i'm worried for no reason. but i think a lot; i think so much. i'm alone with my thoughts every day, all day, all my life. i worry you. you worry me. you told me you already had sex and i get the image and i want to die; maybe, maybe not, but i feel awful. i can hear you two breathing heavily, coming, but i cant hear myself. i want to scream. i want to scream and say that it is awful to never be there and always want to be there; waiting for something that isn't coming. you'll never give me more than half, but you'll take everything.
Last edited by hippieboy444 at May 23, 2011,