Falling
I hate us now, and the way that we are. We are fake words. Rules, like bars. Afraid to speak and to hear what you'll say. Afraid to be me. Afraid to pray. Afraid that we aren't, and never will be. Afraid of my hate. Terrified of my need. Afraid, that I will always bleed. I am fear, and everything it eats. Sign in to see full entry.