Dope. Excellent. Emotional negligence. Outrageous to an exaggerated extent. If you would be so discontent engaging with this... irrelevance.. I will relive you of your duties. Futile attempts to smooth my wrinkled edges. Press flat the worry lines etched into the contours of my heart. It's not that I cannot remember who you are; but I cannot forget what men will become when all the edges have blurred, and the lines have crossed themselves, and at the end of that stifling tunnel there are only answers that must be wrenched from the corners in the pooling darkness. And only questions that must be pounded deep into the core until the reverberation echoes with acknowledgment.
I am alone, as I have always been. Alone again to writhe and moan as the aching buried deep within this filthy shells attempts, again, to rise. And I rejoice in my solitude as I retch out globules of purple-black disdain and smatter walls with the pieces of this lump in my throat. You will not see when Sorrow climbs atop to press its weight upon me and fill my nose and lungs with his stink. Fill me with this reeking. Leave me be. All the other animals know not to get too close to me.
But you. Why do you? so foolishly. I hurt everyone I let try to get close to me. One of us is blind, or perhaps each only one eye to see. I can't just live as if there weren't these ghosts in me. I try to hide it but when I can't here comes the questioning. Then the gesturing. Correcting me. All to the same end. Here I go, alone again.
Here is how I know it's meant to be: all the times I fucked shit up, or got confused, or said the wrong thing, went the wrong way, said some of the stupidest shit you've heard to date, tripped or slipped up to make you look at me and all that I've fucked up and just sigh and turn away. I'm a failure. This is your chance to escape.

Here's another I dug up..
~I wanted to be a disco dancer/ she was a leo i was a cancer/ i said ’hey baby what’s your sign?’/ she wouldn’t give me half the time~

Humiliation. Once again i’ve been rejected; left dejected holding the shattered pieces of my self worth with no one to blame but myself. My hope that maybe these words might mean something dealt the final blow. Nail in the coffin lid. Wondering why this burning in my stomach never gives. It’s my heartache, trickled down. The powder from the rubble in the aftermath of all those things that brought me trouble in the past.  I’ve had my belly-full of shun. The sum total of my expectations when you tell me the old ways are done, that things will change, and point out exactly where i should put my faith. How now, my love? When to forget is to be expected, and to forget is to be demanded, and to forget is to be forgiven, and to FORGET is to never be reprimanded. How now, my friend? When words take no meaning; forever overshadowed by that all-encompassing, hope-consuming, self-rightiously rectifying action. I am rejected. Pushed to the back of the mind like what you ate for lunch last thursday. "I forgot". I know you did. And there is no fault in forgetting; only fault in being forgotton. Unremarkable, immemorable, less than, nothing to be remembered. I am inconsiderable. Not worth the breath for the words you use to pacify betwixt forgetting and forgotton. Synapsis fading. I am fading. I don’t even exist. Trapped forever in the world of forget. And this snake in my belly writhes with discontent at my inability to take myself so easily to that cliff. Delve into disbelief. See, it’s my hope that keeps me tangled in this limbo. And i know exactly how this conversation goes. And i am sentenced for believing, unspoken but always the verdict. My punishment? Appeasement. tell me everything is perfect. Set me up again. Drop me down again. I am rejected. To not forget is sin. And I am wrong again.

Another of the more recent one's. I'd appreciate some comments or feedback or something, but no pressure. LOL.

Can you see me? My infidelities? Every day waiting for something to shake me. I hate things, and i'm waiting for the pot to bubble over. 2 steps away from going crazy at every corner. Can you see it? Taste my lonliness and you can follow my trail by the stench of sorrow. The scent of sickness. I've lived too long to still be living with this. Living like this. Are you watching? All eyes on me. One thousand little hands to run themselves across me. Entangled in a web of lashes, i'm thrashing but i can't stop these pupils from flashing across me. Godspeed when the dimmers cloud those lenses, i'm livid, but fall alone into discontentment. I'm trippin. At least that's what my friends said. Back when I still spoke with words instead of just telling them in my head. You don't want to hear it? Then shut up and don't fucking listen. It seems like the whole worlds on a fucking mission to fuck with you, play with you, anythign to fandangle you and bleed you dry. Want to clear a room in 30 seconds? Its simple, just start to cry. I get so many hushed silences when i say i just want to die. Don't ask me why, because i'll tell you; then all my questions get no reply. How can you be so misunderstood when you understand yourself perfectly fine? What does it say about you when no one bothers to take the time to do the things decent people do for one another? When hanging around with you is the obligation of the guilty. When all you get served is disgust with a cold side of pity. Whats with me? I live these simultaneous lives simultaneously being fed these perpetual fucking lies. I don't want it. I won't do it. I can't do anything else. I'm a fucking waste, wasted space, i don't give a fuck about saving face, can i get some saving grace? Maybe just a little taste of this happiness everyone's always raving about. By the time i get through the line they've just ran out. Just turn around; its not your turn today. How many times should you be turned away before you just stop coming back to the source. I live with minimal remourse for the things i've done. Mostly because those fucking bastards deserved every fucking one of my fabrications. And now i've come to face it. I don't come from this place, i guess. Justify being constantly alone. Since these motherfuckers take it anyway, i'll live as i am. Indecently exposed.