|I don’t deserve you and I guess that’s the point.
It’s because I care too much, isn’t it?
|Psychopaths hear voices in their heads. The torment is delusional (some of them really enjoy it). It’s different with this fire in my brain. If this is psychosomatic I must really hate myself. The relentless throbbing behind my eyes insists that you are real.|
|And it’s all just so tedious.
It’s like the worst of banalities defecating on my nerve endings.
|What if I’d never cared about anything? Empathy and ambition, duty and responsibility, concern and fear — they’re all your accomplices. They were in on the planning stages.|
|My sensitivities have betrayed me.
I’ve woken up destroyed alive.