What am I to do with all this silence...

It doesn't matter what I do I can never get it right. It just hurts so much. But pain is all that I know. I lay here trying to hold back the tears. But it's too hard. Slowly they start streaming down my face. Soon I will have a shower and let it all out in there. I think I might hurt myself too...I can't cope. It's the only thing that will make me feel better. Even if it's only for a short time. It's days like this that I wish I was never born. It's days like that that I believe I was never meant to be loved. And that I will never be loved. I always get a glimpse of bliss. I always meet people wearing masks. Why is it that people who seem to be so kind, caring and considerate at first, turn out to be hurtful, inconsiderate monsters in the end? Why is it that these people never see their own faults; but are too quick to point out mine? And why is it that these people always gloss over the good things about me, only to focus on the negative? I give so much of myself. I give more than I have to give. Time and time again. When will I learn? The thing is, I did learn a long time ago that I shouldn't give anymore...and that I certainly shouldn't give more than I receive. But my longing for love and acceptance always makes me do what I know I shouldn't. I always know I will end up hurt. But the hope that maybe, just maybe, I won't get hurt this time...makes me a fool. That's all I am. A fool. I can't do this anymore. It hurts too much. I can't keep being here. I don't want to be here. I want to die. I will die alone anyway, so why not just fast-track it. -amor e morte.

Promises you broke, words you choked on...and I never walked away; it's still a mystery to me...

How do we really know if something is real or fake? Are things always in black and white? Where are we supposed to go when every path seems to lead around in circles...or leads us to nowhere? Or the same very place that we just came from, only it looks different from the surface? How am I supposed to feel when my heart has been ripped out so many times? Is anything I feel real or genuine? Or is it fabricated because I want to feel something so badly? How do I know what the truth is, when all I am used to hearing is lies? Why am I still honest, when being such has never gotten me anywhere? Why do I continue to give so much of myself, even though I have nothing left? I keep giving away pieces of my soul that I can't spare. And why do people not like giving back? What is so rewarding from taking and taking? How is that fulfilling? Who do I turn to when everyone seems to turn their back on me? Why do I stay after I am repeatedly stabbed in the back?...After my heartstrings have been pulled on so many times, in so many conflicting ways? How does it still beat? Is there such a thing as love? Does trust exist? Can people really be genuine? Is finding the truth better than living a lie? Or is living in denial better? Is there such a thing as a happy ending? Will i find mine? Or will it simple just be 'an ending'...a pointless journey with struggle and heartache, and no real reward at the outset? When will I know the answers to all of these questions? Why do I have to think about this all the time? Why can't life just be easy? Why can't I just be loved for who I am and feel wanted and respected and appreciated? Why, oh why, is that too much to want? -amor e morte