Only me.

Sometimes the world doesn't need to give me any more clues into the fact it wants me gone. Umpteen  times have I been told I am worthless, that I have been recognised as the useless person in a world filled with amazing, kind, beautiful people. I can't imagine what it's like to feel like people like you, or that you even like yourself, and I've come to accept that people done particularly like me. Counting down the days till I can not bother people anymore is how I spend most of my time. I wish the time would come sooner, not just for me but for everyone, as I would lot trouble people anymore. Death is easily brought upon ones self; I already have multiple ways in which I may bring calm upon myself. A single card sits on my window, the only card anyone has ever written more than a 'happy birthday' in, and I can not stand putting this person through me anymore, having to deal with me for much longer, for I must be hated for my annoyance and depressive states, and...

i rise from my bed, slip downstairs, and go in my garden. i sit, leaning back against the wood of my patio, running my fingers ever so delicately through a patch of grass which i wish you were sat on. lacing my fingers through the blades, i close my eyes and grasp a section of it, imagining your fingers intertwined with mine, thinking of how our minds could be laced together with much desire. the craving i have for you is unimaginable - my longing for you is like a drug, and i am a hopeless addict, like many before. or perhaps not. you could be anyone - i have never thought of who you may be, only that the love i have held waiting for you has nearly diminished through lack of love from anyone else who thought we were- soulmates. all those others, the ones i thought you may be, have only ever dispersed me out for themselves, for their selfish gains. i have been so many peoples first kisses, but none of them are important to me, for i only crave one kiss. maybe someone has stolen...