I feel a sort of ineffectuality about my self.

Breathe in, breathe out. Feel confusion. Feel a blur, feel the wind, then feel nothing.

I just want to hold and be held.

Nothing sexual, nothing like that. Just a deep, deep, deep desire to be protected, safe, hands holding hands-human-warmth-kind-of-safe.

Gentle gaze, wish to cry. Wish to reach out, explain, let go. Protect me. Keep me close.

I feel an ugliness about myself. Why can’t I be beautiful, on the inside and out? Why do I have to be this strange needy, irresponsible girl. Why am I like this? Why couldn’t I have been born with a heart as wide as open as the sea? Instead, why am I this silly princess of a girl (who isn’t even a princess because she isn’t even pretty) whose heart closes, not opens, a heart that’s deficient. I want to be more. I don’t want this.

I feel it. I feel frustrated. Why can’t you see me? Why can’t you see that I’m so vulnerable, broken? Can you look past all of THIS, these stupid displays of confusion, can you look past the shit I put on top of myself and just see… me?

Little, little me. Afraid, small, shy. 

I’m just so shy. I just want to hold and be held.

I’m so cold. Alone. Where am I? I don’t even know if this is real. And I doubt it. How do I know I’m not in just some bleak projection of life?

Please, please, make it better. Can’t you hear me cry ineffectually for you? I can’t help it— and I don’t know what to do. No one wants to deal with a train wreck. No one wants to take on the burden, and it’s understable. 

I’m just so fucked up, beyond tears,  beyond words, beyond it all, a jump-out-of-the-window-just-end-it-all fuck up. 

When did I become like this, so

broken