Words flow like hope, through one ear and right out the other. I try to grab hold and release myself to the alluring charms. I don’t trust you. You taught me from the start… that I could never trust you. I have given so many pieces of myself to you people, that I barely fuckin know who I am anymore. And if I don’t know myself then how can I trust myself? And if I can’t trust myself, how the fuck am I supposed to trust you? I long to break the cycle, but the second I open up, everything I am, is still never fuckin enough… and then I’m right back where I started. I don’t care if you hate me or love me… just tell me the truth. I can take it. I’m a grown man. If truth were to be the source of my unbecoming, believe me when I say, that shit would have occured years ago. See, as a child, I was infatuated with skeletons and solving the story behind every bleached bone. I’ve learned truths about people, that, I’m fairly certain they themselves can’t accept. I know you. What makes you think I don’t know you? I’ve met hundreds more just like you. Tragic jokes laid out by fate and trick circumstances. Oh, I know. What I can’t seem to figure… is where I fit in? What am I to you? How do you separate me… from all the rest? What space can I fill in your life… that the rest of them can’t? What if I want to be your whole life, the same as I offer you mine? Doesn’t work now does it? You don’t need me. You never did. I was just a curious specimen. Something nice to pass the time. I got boring. You sought new things for your amusement. It’s fine. I hold blame clutched tightly in both crimson stained hands. I know now… I could never be the one to hold you, because I’ve never even been able… to hold onto myself.