Things fall apart. They do so all the time. Wreck your heart, till unrecognizable, and dump it in the trash. I'm used to it. I am so God damn used to it. So why does it hurt more, every time it happens? Why does it never stop surprising me. I get ripped apart, over and over again, and well? Who could it possibly shock? I am wrong. Existentially wrong, in any way possible, and I've always been.
Whatever I do is wrong, whatever I say. The way I think, the way I speak, even the way I breathe is wrong! I breathe the wrong air in, and the wrong air out, or something like that.
Tonight I'm reaching out to the stars. God knows he owes me a favor.
I need to have my heart fixed, but because I seem to have already, people a starting to hold my hands, and drag me in every direction, ripping me to pieces, before I'm okay. I need more time to heal, but nobody sees it, 'cause I don't know how to let them. What am I going to do? I can try to explain myself. Try to make them understand. Apologize. But fact is, really I can't apologize enough, for breaking everything I touch. Everything I touch, just falls apart.
And I don't know if I'll live through it, or not, but I know one thing. I don't want to. I don't want to survive my world coming crashing down, and I don't know if that is even possible. Clashed under the pieces of an old life, can you live? I'm not sure, but I got a feeling I'll find out soon enough.