you.

you think you're alone,
you think for yourself,
you think that there's nobody else here.
i waited in vein,
i try, it's no use.
all the words in the world can't change where we are now.

you think it doesn't hurt when you think of all the people in the world
when all i want is to be there for you.
you don't event want to look at me.

all the sounds around me confuse me
and the noise we make to counter each other,
frustrate me and you know it.
so you keep it up.
for what and to what do i hold on to?
why do i even bother?

you'll keep typing and believing that you've tried so hard to make this work,
when you can't even see that you don't even give a shit.
and deep down inside if you're honest with yourself you'll know.

how is it teenage girls can write about love,
about boys they want,
boys they've loved, liked,
friends... things they want...
and all the words that i write that bring tears to my eyes are about
my own sister.

you don't know what you're going through
until you're forced to look at it as an outsider...

i'm too upset to watch cartoons right now.

but what the hell am i supposed to do?