the hard thing is those words you speak so softly make so little sense anymore.
its so hard to trust people and i know i'm falling back again.

i can feel my neck getting more tense as i type. i can feel my stomach lurching and the stress over taking me with every breath. i wish there was someone i could hold on to and they would make it all go away. there was someone. there was. someone so loving and wonderful. he made everything better. it hurts to know i'll never be that kid again. i'll never be sparky. i'll never dance with you at my wedding. it's hard to wake up every morning and drag myself out of bed. it's difficult to swallow my food without wanting to spit it out and scream. its hard to believe them when they say they care. i feel like i could write forever. i could keep on going on and on as if maybe these plain old words would help bring me something better. i could write forever. because i almost believed someone was reading it and never stopped. because i thought i wasn't typing for no reason.. just to make myself feel better. i'm perfectly aware this life will stick with me. i'm aware of the reputation, the talk and the laughter i cause. i know how people are. i'm a person. i never seem to learn lessons though. almost never. when i'm sick, i always wonder if i'll ever feel well again. i tell myself to appreciate it next time. appreciate it when i feel healthy. but i don't. i burn myself on a pan, and i touch again a few seconds later to see if its cooled. it isn't stupidity though. i'm really not dumb. i know its going to burn again. i know. but its almost like the thrill of know whats going to happen. its the slyness i feel when i anticipate the pain. its not like that when it comes to you though. i can never stop with you. we're glued now. like it or not i can never let go. you're the reason i keep writing now. because its like i can talk to you, tell you things i never can say out loud. hide what i feel in between lines and words and letters. tell my deepest secrets to the entire world in a language no one but me can understand. its the happiness of knowing exactly what to do. i know if i ever stop writing again it will be chaos. they'll look and laugh and shout. i'll be talked about, much more than normal...which is a lot.. i'll be beaten down all over again. i know if i keep writing like this forever. my heart will fall out of my stomach and my fingers will shatter the way i shattered you. my whole world will come crashing down eventually and i'll be gone. i wish i never lived this life sometimes. that i was someone else maybe, but i then remember how amazing i feel sometimes. those rare occasions of pure bliss, reason being forgetfulness. when i forget about you. when i forget about all those people screaming in the background, those rare moments of silence. alone. peace. those split seconds when i'm 7 years old. floating on a raft in the middle of an ocean with rainbow fish and sugar water. an ocean with cotton bottoms and shallow reefs. an ocean sheltered from all danger where i float forever until i drift into a never ending sleep. i can't wait to sleep. oh the dreams. i cannot wait to be king. king. rule them with my power, they're punished by the skies that laugh. looking down upon us. mocking. you will never float among us. you will never be among the sky people. oh the insane. how beautiful they appear at first. how beautiful life appears.