Disclaimer. I don't own anything.
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To Bleed Perfection
They tell you who you are, and who you want to be.
They tell you why, and that you are too fucking stupid to realize it.
And that you have to change.
You have to change something that you don't even know what it is because you're "too fucking stupid to realize it"
But you do realize.
It's eating away at you, gnawing and clawing at your insides because you know it's there.
And it won't leave.
And they don't realize that maybe you don't want to be that way either, but you have to because who would you be if you weren't?
You would be better. You would be different.
And you want that more than anything else in the world.
So why are you so scared?
Because there is pity, and you thrive on it.
But the pity is in your head, and you can hear it. But you can't see it, feel it, touch it.
And you wish it existed.
Because maybe then you wouldn't feel so guilty.
Guilty that you are self absorbed enough to think about how bad your life is, when you know others are dying around you.
And you feel the need to be one of them.
You want to be angry, sad, depressed, hurt.
You want to scream, you want to kick and slap and punch. You want to cut and you want to bleed. You want the blood to seep out of you and melt with those who thought you were normal, perfect, happy, even.
And then they'll see that you're not. They'll watch you bleed and scream and they won't blink and eye because they still cant understand why you're bleeding and screaming.
Because you're perfect. You'll always be perfect.
And maybe, they'll realize that perfect is only a cruel tease.
end.
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c