Mr. Inferiority Complex

He follows me.
He sits on my shoulders
whispering not-so-pleasantries in my ear.

He tells me what to eat
what to think
what to feel
what to do.

He tells me I am
a worthless
waste of space.

He tells me
Nobody will ever
love me.

Every time I make an assumption
an assumption that maybe
just maybe
he is wrong

he just shouts, sitting on me bed
filing his nails
a cruel smirk painted on his face
"Not true."

But maybe you can help me
Kick him out.
Dump his freeloading ass
tell him to leave me the fuck alone

I would be cautiously optimistic, But he won't let me feel that way.

You

sigh
moan
midday nap on the roof
skin on skin
no boundaries
breathing in unison
hair tickling face
light strum
pure lightness
red fringes
nervous?
hand on bare stomach
lips on bare neck
what is this?


Just a far too personal rambling

From someone who still doesn't know how to feel.

Here We Go.

Write a sentence.

*backspacebackspacebackspacebackspace*

No. thats stupid.

Write another sentence.

maybe...

no.

*backspacebackspacebackspacebackspace*

Long and mournful sigh.

I'll just sit here.

face illuminated by a computer screen.

Listening to the same song on repeat.

thinking of you.

Maybe my fat little greasy fingers

smashing repeatedly on this gross little keyboard

might produce something

that might make someone

somewhere

smile. 

Preferably you.

Because you deserve it.

I will be back. 

To make something much better. 

Because this kind of sucks. 

you'll see.