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I want to weep. I want to tear the hair from my head and let loose a cry to silence everything. I am falling. There needs to be a story, or else, none of this will mean a goddamn thing.

Say you start to fall in love. What is the worst that can happen. It's all in your head. But it's a sickness, isn't it? I hunger for nothing but her. My tastes. My every sense is muted out by the thought of her. Goddamn. Because this can go nowhere. This will mean nothing. I am learning. Oh yes. I am learning. The only thing I can do to protect myself is to hurt. To think the worst. To bleed myself of her. Tears that tear across my heart. Salt on open wounds. Inside me beats the heart of a goddamn romantic. A fool. A poet whose word do not woo. And I weep. Because I can't stop and this is where I am and I don't want to be here again. I do this because my words are my magic.

I destroy myself. Every hour of every day in between the moments I try to escape her. I drink, I drug, I drown out the possibly maybes with fantasies of my own creation. I die a little more each day. Not because of her. I want to live because of her. Where is that fine line between selfishness and absolute devotion. I gotta. Gotta. Gotta. Someone tell me there is some sort of cure for this Cholera. The symptoms are there. I can't fuckng deny.

I want to scream. You hear that. Can you hear that?

This moment. I want it to pass. I want it to be over. It's gone on so long. I need to say something. I need to confess and scream and let loose a torrent of emotion because I'm killing myself. This is how I kill myself. And I want to live. I want to go on loving life. But right now. I hate myself. How does this happen? How did I get here? Self loathing. Such a familiar thing.

I rock back and forth on a thought. I am lost in the thought of her. This loop cycle, clicking whirring and repeating in my head. I am haunted. The only ghosts there are exist only because of failure. I am haunted because of my failure. Her failure. Our failure. There is something basic and human that is being overlooked. Something remarkably easy and simple and true. And it's been complicated. Tainted by misunderstanding and lonliness and the worst thing of all. It was the right thing to do. It was exactly what I needed to do. In the moment. I am growing from my goddamn mistakes, it just tears me apart inside. Growing too quick for my skin.

I dream and I dream and I dream of her. And I hardly ever dream. Kick this fool in the face and show him his place. Or else he will continue to think himself a king.