a broken girl in pieces approaches an open door.
If all you do is give your love to people who don't want it, how are you left?
Does your love just come back to be passed on to the next? Or do you become emptier with each loss and with less to give as time passes?
Once I felt I had a lot of love to give. And no one I gave it to wanted it.
But I always had it, waiting to be handed over.
Now that it's never been returned I fear I truly have nothing left to barter with.
I've lost on every bet.
I can't believe this is happening again.
One day I will learn to stop giving my love to people who give their love to someone else.
This is the last time.
The last fucking time.
This will not work out.
It never ever does.
This will not be different.
I really miss being happy.
I miss having all my pieces.
I lost my bag with my wallet, my keys, my rubiks cube, my tools and my earplugs at the last festival. I'm almost certain it was stolen. And all I could think of was how honestly I deserved it.
I deserve all of this.
I deserve every ounce of pain in my glass.
I have deserved every time my heart was broken into so many pieces that I couldn't find them all.
And once I picked up my broken parts, I'd walk into another man who would help me put them half together before he smashed them out of my hands.
Now I'm so fucking broken that I don't see the point in trying to put anything together.
This is the last time I try.
All that love I thought I had to give is going away.
I'm burying it deep.
Because everytime I share it, it hurts.
And I am done with hurt.