It's scary here.

People like those who are held together. So whole with themselves, not damaged. Nobody wants a person who's broken, spoilt goods. But I can't piece myself together. I'm a defect.

-

The daughter that doesn't speak, the father that doesn't know what to do. She's tearing apart on the inside. Too many voices running through her head. She lost her own, maybe never had. Which is hers she doesn't know.

I wish I could stop.

I will hurt you and you have to prove that you can take it. I will hurt someone before they get the chance to hurt me. And if they stay and accept the pain I inflict upon them, they'll get my trust. Because I'm that kind of fucked up.

Fool me once, twice's a mistake. Third's a never again.

Why didn't I recognize it? History does repeats itself. And it always ends up the same doesn't it? You with everything and I, nothing. Let's just hope the heavens have something else planned for me. One door closes, another window open all that shit. Because right now I'm shut in a cell with no outlets. 

Shut out

It's rainy days like this that remind me of those times I spent with someone in the bed of another, listening to the slight rain and watching the sunlight clear up the grey skies. Bundled up in blankets, curled up next to a person. I'm over him but it's the memories of having someone that stays.