Pictures of Passing Cars

Please I cant handle this now.  Now at this time of utmost fragility.  I have no memory of ever being this vulnerable.  I’m working hard to beome strong.  You probably don’t see it on the outside.  Being strong for me is conquering my demons.  Things that have taunted me and danced just out my reach my whole life.  A shadowy world of flat.  Secret, letting go.  Key word, forgiveness.  When I try to tell you, everything I say is an accusation against you.  You never think twice about telling me how you feel.  I never speak up, no matter how hard it hurts me because I feel it is my penance for once being young and naive.   I feel it a great burden to have found love so early.  No, you are not the burden, but our closeness and you being so young, and neither of us well versed in the art of understanding one another. My passiveness, your agressiveness.  I bear it all in silence. I carry it, live it and it unfurls its leaves on me, I am a growing tree.  I take the brunt of you and your accusitory nature and forgive and forget. 

Forget not.  Forget little incidents.  Forget exact words. What I dont forget is how I sense a literal slice in my heart.  The slice fills with mortar of time and ebbs away.  I ignore.  I tend to my roots.  Work throught my demons as well as I can. My demon is myself.  My actions. Where I become disconnected and hypocritical. I want, want, want.  But I Do Not. My deepest struggles. Emotional Involvement. I dig in deep and don’t let go, no matter my desire.  What I want for myself more than anything is to Forgive myself.  They say it is the hardest thing to do, and I never believed them.  I’ve found the root of my problem, and I have been living believing that I could do it.  All thats happened has brought to my attention that I am not capable.  When I sit in corners and stare at nothing til it beomes everything, I realize that the lead in my chest is pulsating with resentment.  Towards myself, and towards him.   Eating away at me. they hurt more than any blood trickling from my leg. What they don’t hurt more than, is their spawn.  Your dissapointment in me.  I have ruined me for you forever, and still you persist on.  I know you have never forgiven me. You in fact have told me so, and everytime.   Sometimes I think you never will, or maybe when you grow up.   Back then, I didn’t know about us.  I was even younger than you now, more naive then you still are.  I was running from each falling star to the next, never believing what anyone but her said.  I would run and run and run, only to collapse into myself with confusion, bleeding it out.  The cuts are like little envelopes in which I seal away my self-disgust and guilt.  Until they are all but gone, I feel clean.  All but gone, I cannot close those parts of myself off.  I start to panic and my fear builds, truly believing that I will never finish this off. The guilt then washes over me, bidding me to return to pain.   All my life my stupid betayals will haunt me.  I have no purpose, and without this acheivement I am and have accomplished nothing. If there was a class I could take, a handbook I could read let me know.  What this really is is a call for help. Im begging for anything the only way I can.

 wanna live, wanna die, wanna grow old with you
I wanna be the only one that you know
‘Cause I adore you
I do yeah