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13 October 2009 @ 03:38 am
`*-; Tell me something to say, 'cause I'm screaming, screaming.  
`*-; Not giving up 'til I break down.

IT MAKES ME FUCKING SICK.

If I could only say what I wanted to say without restraint, the world would shake at my screaming.

I would fucking defy gravity.

The intensity of my words would be so sincere that even I couldn't fake it.

I CAN'T FAKE HOW MUCH I LOVE YOU. You sick son of a bitch.

However, I can push it away. Because all it is is heartbreak. Because what the fuck is the use anymore? I can't make anyone do anything. I can't force the universe to align. I can't create new stars that spell your name, and I can't continuously hold up my facade that allows me to pretend everything is okay. Masks become heavy, after a while - you know. They're not just a part of you. They're active facades, and mine bears the weight of my once-world that I now have to rebuild from scratch.

But what fucking choice do I have?

Can you tell that I pick my poison well; that I have no more to sell to you.