“My Clothes Feel Like Someone’s Old Throw-aways”

Sometimes the only thing I can do is say goodbye. It rips my heart out and tears it open, but I’ll survive. No one has died yet of a broken heart.

I feel that if I try and get close to anyone, then that’s the beginning of the end. I must be cursed. Maybe this is karma coming back to get me. Whatever it is, I’ll have to muddle through and hopefully will learn a little something along the way.

Maybe it’s time I look for a substitute for love, since love itself has evaded me. Again.

I’ll look for the silly game, and things that can be bought. I’ll find a pretty face and keep it superficial. I’ll travel round the world and hunger for rooms full of pretentious strangers. I’ll buy trinkets, look for heady danger, try new drugs. I’ll play on the Ferris wheel, steal hearts, make laughter in the dark. Bring on the one night stands, I’ll spark fires and cause a blaze.

But I’ll be unhappy. Loneliness has never been a stranger. I just can no longer be a moth to a flame.

I guess it’s me. I just am terrible at anything more than friendship. So that’s where I’ll have to keep it for now.