Like cancer that eats at the brain, my head is swollen with soon-to-be emptiness. Sleep seems to be the obvious to stop the dark angels that tend to frequent and fill empty my head at this time of night.

It's nice to forget what heartbreak feels like from time to time. But when you've got people that carry your heart on a silver platter, it's the easiest thing do to (to forget). It's as if it never happened in the first place.

I want someone to talk to, to spill my frickin heart to. I want someone to know me, all of me, and not be scared to ask for more. Maybe there is no real me anymore, just a manifestation of my former self that I'd still like to hang on to.