Untitled.

Unwanted.
Sitting alone on my wide, bare floor.
Quietness, too loud for my ears.
No phone calls or text messages...
No rings calling me to answer my door for a "Hey, I was in the neighborhood and I decided to stop by!"
No... I've never gotten one of those.
No plans tonight.
Everything became hollow.
Last sunday.
The last sunday.
Oh, that sunday.
That was the last time I left.
I've been sitting here for quite a while.
Shallow emptiness has filled my body.
I am just.... here.
I am nothing.
Or at least thats what everyone thinks of me.
I'm just there.
For last-minute company when everyone else has plans.
No friends.
No life.
No love.
Just cleaning my nice bare floor.
Wide floor.
Wood floor.
It's clean now.
It's grown cold.
You bring only bad news.
Nothing left too hold on too.
Yet I've got too much to lose.
I'd end up missing all those phobias and fears.
The hallucinations... oh they told me they weren't real.
They were so, so very real.
The lovely doctors visits.
Tests. Tests. Tests.
I'd miss the disorders that I've grown to care about.
I'm prone to accidents.
I am an accident.
My floor... my bare floor, the only thing that holds me now.
I don't miss the way things used to be.
The happiness and laughter.
Old shit.
Red, sticky, dark.
Puddling.
Mucking up my bare, wide open floor.
Shiny, sharp, small.
Clinking.
Falling to my bare, wide open floor.
Oh my space is a mess.
But I can't clean it.
Not now.
Not anymore.
Look what I've done to me.
I wish it was their fault.
They won't know why.
They can't think of the reasons... they wouldn't take the time to do that.
They won't care.
They will not attend the party.
But I'll be there.
Dressed in my best.
Laying in a cheap padded box.
Hopefully surrounded by flowers.
Well, we all know that that hope isn't going to become reality.
No one will be there.
Maybe one or two.
No one would care.
And for some reason, that makes me happy.
It makes me scared.

by BriiXx3
posted on 08/29/2008