Broken

I think that I should say it. I feel as though I should say it But is it all wrong; is it all in vain? Do I think that I should just fucking say it out loud? I know how I feel, but I don't want to feel rejected. I could come on too strong. But I've already done that before. And you know how it feels.

I barely know you, yet I feel as though I know you. We're not that close, it's not like a huge approximation. But I know the little secrets that you gave me that make my determination gigantic. You occasionally flood my thoughts in an overall positive way. It's the tumor that I love, the pain that I crave, the imaginary rose that impales the pathological divide of my brain. But I'm too weak to say the words. I'm a pussy, but I've already stated the cause and the bullet has flooded my brain.

You could forget about me. But you say that I'm not disposable, you say that I'm like you. I don't know at all. But are we the magnets that can attract, like the polar opposites? My instability pushes you away from me and into the abyss. The fields. I don't think you understand me, but I'll be there for you. I can't say those words yet; I just need time to figure out if there really is a master-plan.