that even love isn’t enough

i am acquainted with monsters;

how do i know you're not one of them?

i am blind

and i am stupid.

life is perpetually not what it seems.

i seem happy, but who am i?

it breaks my heart.

i break my heart over and over again,

wondering who you are. picking at the

dirt on your soul and trying to see what's

underneath, please, let there be more

underneath.

giving you up would break my heart.

none of it was a secret,

and jokes are rarely jokes.

which just means i can only blame myself

for lying and deceiving myself. for

pretending that any of this is ok.

ok?

maybe it's unfair.

but that's what i hate about myself.

i am weak, and malleable.

i do not stand up for my people.

i can barely stand up myself.

it breaks my heart.

it breaks my heart.