• I hate being alone.
    Being along is too tempting.
    I’m always alone.
    I’m a lonely person.

    My thoughts race.
    My own anxieties make me feel so out of place.
    I don’t belong in this world.
    I might belong in the next world.
    I don’t know.

    My thoughts are so irritating.
    I can’t stand them.
    It’s so difficult to stand up to them.
    I feel as if I’m losing my mind.

    I talk all the time.
    It helps to make the noise in my head a little less.
    This world of self-hate is one I try to ignore.
    The world outside of me isn’t so kind.
    This adds fuel to the fire.

    Sometimes I like being alone.
    I can dwell within these hopeless thoughts.
    I can make myself empty.
    I hate being alone because I hate liking that I feel this way.
    The darkness inside of me is often reigned in.

    This empty feeling deep inside of me,
    This empty void,
    Where nothing grows,
    Not even the flowers,
    I don’t know what to do with it.
    Should I put it high on a shelf?

    I hate that I like feeling this way.
    It’s madness.
    It makes no sense.
    Why do I like feeling this way?
    It’s to my enjoyment.
    It’s to my entertainment.

    Maybe I just want attention.
    That right there adds to the puzzle.
    I want to be loved.
    I want a good man to love me.
    Don’t I have that?

    I want to be greedy here for just a second.
    I want to want more here for just a second.
    It’s a mystery to me.
    My words all run together.
    I hate that I like the way I feel.

    This isn’t supposed to be.
    This isn’t supposed to exist.
    This empty feeling is something I like.
    I’m not supposed to like it so much.
    Maybe I’m all messed up in the head.

    I’ll die.
    I’ll kill myself off.
    If that’s what I want,
    If that’s my desire,
    I will do it.

    I will lie.
    I will make things up.
    I will plaster a smile on my face.
    I will hide the dark truth of my nature.
    No one will know.
    No one will understand anyway.

    I feel empty inside and I like it.
    I want to remain here.
    I want to drown.
    I want to jump.
    I want to hurt.
    I want to burn.
    Return me to ash.
    Return me to the dirt where I belong.

    I’m waiting for my death.
    I want to run towards it.
    I yearn it with all of my being.
    Pull me into the darkness of despair.
    I want to remain hopeless.

    This is why I hate being alone.
    These thoughts are so tempting.
    I know why I’m here.
    I know why I want to leave.
    Shroud me in eternal darkness.
    This is where I belong.
    Please, don’t reach a hand out to save me.
    I don’t want to be saved.