for you, for me, for all that will never be.

Ah. Fuck. My. Life.

All I have to say, no creative title. No friggin reason.
I have no effing excuse. If you love me like you say you do, you should know.

You should know that my cuts are out the open.
You should know that that they're hidden with brightly coloured marker.

You should know how much I need to give up.
You should know how much I want to give up.
You should know that the person I should die for is myself...

You should know that I don't think he'll remember, and you should know that I'm beginning not to fucking care. You should know that this is more than some effing anniversary. You should know this is about my mangled heart.

Edit;
Last night wasn't a good night. Like at all.
I'm sorry for the walls I've built up around myself, sometimes we build them to see who'll climb over.