My First Kiss At The Public Execution.

Growing weary, weary weary. Not giving in, though. Very hard to resist it.

I know, trust me I know. Whether you speak or not, I am very, very aware.

I'm probably losing my grip; I'm not entirely sure that I care though. The speed at which I'm typing is incredibly soothing, for some reason. Ebb and flow, I guess. Good rhythm.

Waiting waiting waiting. My day will come. Hopefully. With someone. Not alone. I pray not alone.

Not so much lonely. Well, that's a lie. Of course lonely. But just in need of...affirmation. Reassurance. Something to prove I'm not everything I tend to believe I am. You aren't the person to do it, so please stop. It just...doesn't help.


Everybody needs a little devastation.
I've had so much more than I need. Celebrator, anyone?