Hate 

Hate 

I hate you, and I hate being alive. I hate that you make me hate being alive. I hate everything about you. I hate how you make me feel. I hate that you are gone. I hate your smile. I hate your friends. I hate that I can not make you happy anymore. I hate your front of disinterest. I hate your reserved demeanor. I hate that I am not over you. I hate your happiness. I hate that I doubt that you are really happy but will never ask. I hate that it has been a month without speaking. I hate being weak. I hate you for making me feel weak. FUCK YOU. 

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Fuck the train 

Fuck the train 

I sat on the train tracks & cried & smoked a cigarette. The train was not coming, but I was sad I was even there. 

I hate the train. I’m afraid of the train. I’m mad every time it comes. I wonder if I can make it in time to die. Then I wonder if I want to make it in time to die. 

Really, I don’t hate the train because it can kill me. Or because I want to it kill me. (Do I?) I hate the train because it makes me question myself. 

I take pride in my self awareness. Now a fucking mode of mass transportation has me questioning whether I’m ready to take the plunge or not.

I hope I dont live too long. 

Predator

Predator

I feel as though I’ve been taken victim to a predator I cannot see. My predator is not one I can see. My predator is not one I can touch. My predator is not one I can hear. However, the predator sees, touches, and hears me. On the darkest days, he sings his nefarious tunes in my ears. He clouds my vision with insecurity. He turns my warm heart to stone. On some lighter days, he leaves me be. However, I never doubt that he will return for his prey.