Like this

I can write about whoever and whatever I want. That is my freedom. We can't predict our feelings. I never thought I'd ever be affected like this. I never imagined things would end up like this. I always played it off like I knew what I was doing. I didn't. Now we're both paying for it. I'm one strong ***** if I can handle pain like this. I keep moving forward even though it feels like I'm dying. Glass cracks with every single step I take. At what point does the present turn into the past? How long will it take for you to forget my face, if you haven't already? Fake love is almost worse than real hate. I feel it in my veins, the pure disappointment of losing again. It courses and runs through me like acid in the rain. I'm being consumed by all of these useless thoughts everyday. My mind is so full and heavy like a pregnant belly. Tears are the only way for my trapped thoughts to escape. Tragedy is my friend. Sadness is my way. Depression is my face. I wish someone would just come wash it all away. Make it disappear. Make the pain go away. Make me new again. But no one is ever going to take me serious, it's always been like this. No one cares enough to make me laugh.No one really wants to marry a train wreck. Am I insane for wanting to be loved? It feels that way. I lose everyone I try. I'm tired. When you decide it's time to go will you even say good-bye? They never do. And I can't figure out why I even try. My life is an empty vase. I haven't smelled the roses in days. I guess they're dead, like my chances to find happiness in someone else. If I can't make myself happy, what's the point? I don't care to inquire anymore. Love is a bore. It's a ticket I'm no longer paying for. Time and money are my lovers now. If single is my life, I'm gna spend it right. I'll be fine. I don't want to go on like this but I'm all out of options. I will be right here even after everyone else disappears. Lonely. Alone. By myself. In my chest. Writing sad shit like this.