alive and [un]well. I’m used to
the broken hearts, mascara rivers, and getting screwed over.  Every
relationship I’m in, I fuck it up somehow. I’m tired of getting all
dolled up expecting to see you today, but I always get blown off. I’m
tired of worrying myself sick over nothing. I’m thinking “what did I do
now?” as your voicemail clicks on and off and on and off. As their
words play over and over again in my mind, like a broken record. But
the thought never leaves my head, not even for a second, until I get an
answer. I’m tired of playing guessing games with myself. I have my
phone right beside me, waiting for your name on the Caller ID. Darling,
I’m not making any sense. I put on a fake smile and no one seems to
notice what’s really going on in my skull or maybe they just don’t
care…. My mind is running but more like in place, [kinda how life is]
telling myself the same things over and over even though I know it gets
me nowhere, only deeper and deeper into my own head. I’m sick of the
lies. The lies people tell me to “feel better,” but in reality, only
make me feel worse. Volume goes with the truth, my friend. It’s like
you saying “shake it off and get back in the game, kid. We’re gonna be
okay…” but trailing off in a whisper because you don’t even believe
yourself. Confidence feels strange, but is as warm as the inexperience
that comes with it. “

Clingy psychopath, or is this how chicks really feel?


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