I ask myself

I ask myself everyday.
I ask myself everyday if you hate me.
I ask myself everyday if you love me.
I ask myself everyday if you would really want to.
Want to spend the rest of your life with me.
I strongly doubt it.
I strongly doubt you love me.

I wouldn't be surprised if those 5 hurtful words spilled from your lips so easily.
Maybe the stream from your fingers.
Maybe it will be after you make sure I am in your car.
Maybe it will be over a candle light dinner.
Maybe it will be after I thought you loved me.
Maybe it will be tonight.

Shaking.
Listening to the world around me.
Everyone around me, I wonder if it is you.
In reality I know it isn't.
You don't love me that much.
Not as much as I thought you did.

I thought you really in love with me.
But in reality I do believe that I am just an object.
I don't think I what you are looking for.
I cant be what you are looking for.
I cant be true, I cant be real.
An objet to keep you stable, an object to pre occupy you.
Something.

I am not a person.

I sit here, with tears held in the corners of my eyes.
Your love bite on my neck.
Your favorite band playing in the background.

I wonder if you hate me.
I feel you do, sometimes.
You'll never know how much you keep me grounded.

It's no longer your hands that caress my face, but my tears.
These tears are filled with pain and fear.
I wish you were the one.
I cannot grasp how I feel.
My thoughts are confused.

I feel like a burden on you.
I feel like I am holding you back for living your life.
I am slowing you down, and you won't admit it.

I am not a person.

I am not the girl you dated before me.
I am not the girl you wanted before you met me.
I am not wild like her.
I am not one to live life high.
I am not one to burn my sorrows away with a lighter.
I am not the one to show my body in ways she did.

I don't have the natural look.
I don't have long brown hair like she does.
I don't know how to do the things you used too.
I feel as if I need to know.
I feel as if I should know.
I feel as if I should for you to love me.

I am not a hippie, nor a weed smoker.
I do not want to travel from festival to festival.
I don't live on the beach, paint my face with funny colors.
I don't drink, nor want too.
I don't want to black out the important years of my life.
But I do want to love you.

Right now.
Right now at this moment in time.
This specific moment in time, I hate my life.
I hate the way I have to turn to you.
I hate the way I feel disguarded from you.
I hate the way you make me feel wrong most of the time.
I hate the way I feel as if I stress you out.
I feel like you hate me.
You hate the depressed me.
You hate my habits, and my fears.
You hate my worries.

I swear you hate me.
You don't love me.
I am just an object.
An object you can leave love bites, and touches on.
Something you play with in your spare time.
A form of habit you cannot quit.

I am not a person.

I know the old you is different from the you I know now.
But that old you shines through.
The way you hold on and can't let go of old habits.
The way you do things when you're bored.
The way you talk about your past.
I know you miss those people.
I know you miss the old house.
I know you miss the way you used to live.
I know yet, you don't.

I thought you loved me.
I think you don't and your'e just using me.
I can't say anything to you without feeling that I am will be in trouble.
I cannot let go.
I don't want to let go of you.
I can't.

I can hear the annoyance.
I can feel the tension.
I can see the confusion and pity.

Yet you make me feel like I am not a human being.

I am waiting for those five words.
Those five words of hurt.
Those five words.

I don't know if it will be a serious encounter, or one out of spite.
But I do know, I am scared.
I am scared to actually speak the way I feel in front of you or even to you.
I am scared that one day you'll tell me to stop.
You won't hold me anymore.
You won't touch me.
You won't kiss me.
That is when I know it's coming to a screeching halt.
I no longer know what to say, nor how to describe the way I am feeling.
I just want you to know I feel like a burden to you.
I can't help that I am fucked up.
I just can't.
I do know that either you do kind of love me, or you're really good at lying and pretending.

Just remember that I am not pretending nor lying.

I ask myself everday.
I ask myself everyday if you hate me.
I ask myself everyday if you love me.
I ask myself everyday if you would really want to.
Want to spend the rest of your life with me.
I strongly doubt it.
I strongly doubt you love me.