Seems, I am perpetually so.

I have cursed God, my existence, myself, so many times.

I have prayed, fought, clawed for happiness, but only managed to hold on it to for so fleeting a time one can scarcely believe it existed at all.

It's my own fault, I could have been "happy" ten times over if only I could be content with someone loving me, instead of needing to love them.

No, of course I don't believe that. But at times like these, when my bed is cold & my heart colder... I break.

I cannot function, I cannot sleep, all I can do is watch as another possible future withers before my eyes. I set myself up for this all, as is my way.

I live at the bottom of a bottle with stained fingers, a stained soul.

Where is my angel, where is my reprieve? I have lost too many loves, I am a shadow of who I wanted to be. I only know my heart exists because it aches so, I wish I could cut it out.

Who has not loved that has wanted to die? Who has not loved that has experienced the sweetest days of their lives.

Yes, I'm dramatic, but this is my space, and I'll be as dramatic as I bloody well please. These posts are moments in times, emotions chained to words, and they are mine.

Fuck you God, fuck you life, fuck you Justin.

I live to writhe another day.

Justin | 1:45 AM