Ill-worthy. Paranoid. Unconventional.
Nostalgic. Pensive. Depressive.
Wistful. Self-conscious. Weak.
I feel safer by your side? Again, I feel like the Earth could swallow me whole and the world wouldn't mind. The people wouldn't mind. Those I love wouldn't mind. Because after all, it is me we're talking about.And to awake jubilant, and to routinely feel like shit every night... A factor of mine which I find impossible to alter. I can't help but hear whispers at the back of my head. The back-stabbing mumurs speaking of my name, with my name, on my name. Sticks and stones will break my bones, and words will definitely hurt me. There goes my weakness. There goes my self-esteem... Flailing around in the tongues of people.
I will never be able to trust; my secrets told, fondled with.
My secrets raped, abused.
"The stars lean down to kiss you, and I lay awake and miss you."
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I hate these nights. I can only pray that he'll never find out about this.
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