pulled at the s e a m
stretched out and dry.
my life is a never-ending battle with myself.
so i write these stupid words and string them together. maybe someone can make sense of me.
lay to waste my cowardice.
i can't own up to this.
i can't go on.
so what is it all good for?
just for you to watch me bleed?
i really ought to sleep but the thought is smothering me.
i can't wash it away.
i can't think it away.
so now what?
i can't make eye contact with even myself anymore.
those images of a withered girl are burned deep inside those eyes.
i'm a good girl.
i'm a good girl.
i'm a good girl.
it's a lie.
i'm used to it.
i'm probably better at saying that than i am at even telling you my name.
it's nothing new.
just some of the same old bullshit.