The bitterness of longing for things you'll never have is matched only by the bitterness of realisation of truths you never wanted to be true.

" there's no use trying to fix things that are destined to be broken."

My life has become the song broken heartstrings play off key and out of tune. My words have become rusted orange with disuse and my tongue is burnt black with the sin of misuse and I'm a walking contradiction of the rules I've imposed on myself , the productivity obsessed couch potato and I've forgotten to do the dishes yet again but you haven't forgotten to complain about them.

Oh but to you , I'm always going to be nothing more than an unmade bed, undone dishes and an indecipherable head. You couldn't tolerate a day what I've tolerated for years and you made sure everybody heard when you screamed my faults to the world and you are the designer of scars I've learnt never fade. And I'm tired of the way I still rise to the bait. I can't be sorry enough and yet I can't forgive enough and I'm begging for release, for a sleep that means peace and dreams in which I mean more than the worst parts of me.

I want someone to value me for more than my skin and the thickness of my hair and the shade of lipstick I wear. I want somebody who will care about the thoughts and reflections I make that keep me awake and the writing that keeps me alive at night. I want somebody that loves my flaws and doesn't just accept them, I want somebody to value me and not just my degree and not just my body
, I want somebody to see through the clothes I wear to the soul inside and the scars it bears , I want somebody who can keep me calm when the anger bleeds out of me and I  want somebody who is a reality and not just a six am fantasy.