hiding under the bed from a monster called change

god damn fuck shit ass bitch cunt and whatever else.
im fucking falling apart. 
and i get home and she tells me i smell strongly of cigarettes.
bitch, if only you knew.  if only you knew that i’m
the last one standing.

and even as i wrote the words ‘things will never be the same’ i never believed them.  you know that?  i never let go.  and now i have and i’m falling.  fuck everything.  fuck disinterest.  fuck silence.  fuck being awkward.  fuck being different. and tomorrow night will just be a reminder of how different we all are.  every single one of us.  please, if you read this, don’t think that i’m personally attacking you.  do whatever you want to your body, seriously.  i know i can’t stop anyone and i’m fine with that.  but it symbolizes something, you know?  it represents secrets and the vastness of the unknown.  it flips the table on what is believable and what isn’t.  and it’s not that i’m going to try to stop you or that i think you’re a bad person or anything like that, its just sort of a reality check.  we are all human.  we are all in constant state of change, no matter how we try to preserve ourselves.