›WITHERINGTODEATH

When I look upon the pages of the people I once knew, I think “Wasn’t I once important in your life?” Then it hits me, I was, but I’m not anymore. ”Move on please…” It’s so hard. I hate that constant and nagging feeling of rejection. I can’t move on because my mind can only linger in the past wondering What the hell, when did I become forgotten? When was I replaced? I think its just me who’s just oblivious. I should walk away now. So I walk, and when I look back, replaced.

Me, Vivian. Broken down, fixed up. Broken again, fixed again. Broken the third time, fixed the third time.

Vivian. Broken, gone.

Run, thats what I want to do. If I could, I’d take everything thats important to me now, and run. I’d go places, see the world, escape reality. Problem is, I can’t escape reality because all I can do it stare at it in the face, then go run and hide, where I can cry, hurt myself, blame myself, blame everyone else, then wither to death.

Left alone, left behind. Everyone else has a new chapter in their life, I’m still on the same page. I’m cold. I’m like a train in a dark tunnel. I can’t see the fucking light.

I don’t like how, everything I do, I remember. Then I go home and criticise myself to the point where everything I do is bad, everything I do is a sin. I’m nobody, and nobody is I. I died, a long long time ago. No one had time, or the effort to care. I’m just, that temporary person, who’ll hang around, maybe for a year. Just until that someone can find someone else better. Then I’m gone. Back to my hole, back to my lonliness.

Goodnight world, I hope I never wake up.

I want a sandwich.