Well it's 3 a.m. here and I have no desire to sleep, possibly because my heart feels like an anvil. I seem to always be the one to fall to quickly for the people that will never feel the same. It's a sickness, a weakness, a crippiling need to find pain in a way that is not only detrimental to my physical being but also to my mind and my hope. I've been trying for so long to find some way to rid myself of at least a small amount of anxiety, I've looked in to many religions and most thoroughly Buddhism but nothing makes sense to me. No 'diety' could ever give me the reassurance and strength that I need. It's a one ship fleet and this ship is sinking.
Caught up in the wasted hearts,
the bleeding so easily spent.
Pushed down against the floor,
your lies just another nail
in my coffin.
I ought to hope for something sane,
for a peace in these crimes.
But I find myself still lost,
in a love that was never
mine.
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