EmotionalSuicide.
Love all around, I look and see. Then I question the very worth in me. Am I worthy? Or will it forever pass me by? Will I ever find it? Will I know if I look it in the eye?
I don’t want to be kept but I want to be held. Not to be owned but to belong instead. A place I can go, not to call my own. But a place to find comfort; one I call home.
To feel like I’m wanted is all I desire. When I look in your eyes, I want to feel that fire. I want dates & getaways & everything in between. Fuck sex, I want to be your mind raped Queen.
Many tears have been cried and my heart broken. My ears have been deafened by the fucked up words spoken. Broken promises and empty sentences said. Are the very reason I find myself up on this ledge.
This pain I feel; this dagger in my heart. Wasn’t placed there by me, but it is my fault. Because I unwrapped this organ as I exposed another. Hoping entrance in one, would close the other.
Time after time, I’ve repeatedly been proven wrong. I’ve got enough drama to write song after song. However, I’m still holding on to hope: one day I’ll get it right. But until then, I’ll just cry myself to sleep at night.
I’ll rise in the morning with a smile on my face. Pretending what happened last night, never took place. Continuing to place my heart on my sleeve. Praying to God the next one doesn’t leave.
Eventually I’ll find a partner to call my own. With whom I may start to build my home. Someday I’ll be held by him and kept safe from harm. Without a word spoken; just by the warmth of his arm.
Until then I’ll be one emotional and confused mess. Trying to figure out my next few steps. But enough talking about this hypothetical edge. I just really wish someone would come talk me off this fucking ledge.
