maybe i need pain.
maybe because pain is the one thing that reminds me that i am still alive.

i dont know why i want this love that isnt meant to be mine. ive never been one to resist the flow of things, but not having what i want drives me crazy. i want to peel my skin off my bones, lick them clean and show you, im alive.. because of the pain you give to me.

but i dont feel like i have lost my head. in fact, it is the very rationality that makes this pain an itch i cannot scratch, an growing tumor inside of me no radioactive process can remove.

maybe i am a masochist. i beg for you to hurt me.
every second i grow more aware of how much i hate myself for doing everything i do, the more i need you to hold me. but loathing does nothing with you. you turn your head, and walk away from the glare of my anger, oblivious to the fact that it is the very thing that stokes it, makes the flames rise to my eyes as a mess of disappointments and failures.

just like you want me to be something i am not,
you are not willing to be what i wish you could be.
i am in love with the potentiality of you.
and you are in love with the memory of me and not what i want to become in your eyes.

i question my dispoablitity in your life.
its strange how its not longer about assurance.. or self esteem. or men.
i just want you to be mine. and ironically it is its impossibility that spurs my insistence.
perhaps because i believe you are the love of my life?
or maybe i just dont beleive in love anymore.
i just hate being abandoned... by you.

and it is this pain that remains.
if only i can hire my own assasin.