Save Me

Like a fool, I lay awake in bed once more. Thinking, always thinking. About you, about me, about us, about what it is, about what it has been, about what it could be.

Like a fool I cry again tonight, like I do on so many dark, silent nights, just like this one.

I hate silence you know? I hate the dark too. I like loud noises, I like mess and confusion and I like it when a lot of things happen at once. I guess that’s because when you’re alone, in the dark, when all you can hear is your own ragged breathing and the sounds of sheets moving around or the rare car that passes by, that’s when your monsters come out.

And I have so many monsters, far more than you’re aware of, far more than I’m proud to admit.

Every day I pretend. I’m fake. I always have on a mask, I’m afraid of letting that mask go because what lays underneath… What lays underneath are monsters, all monsters.

And recently, you’ve become a monster too.

So here I am, laying in the dark, crying for every reason and for no reason at all.

What have you done to make me cry, you might question yourself. Truth is, the worst thing you’ve done was loving me.

The worst thing you’ve done was loving me to the point where you made me love you.

And I’m weak.

I’m weak.

I’m weak.

I’m lost, I don’t know my own monsters, yet I have someone who wants to see them. And I want to show them. Because you love me. Because I love you.

But what if you see my monsters and decide they’re too much?

What if I take off my mask and let you see the monsters even I am afraid off?

Will you still love me?

Will you try to fight the monsters with me?

You say you’ll kill anyone who dares try and harm me.

But what if that person is you?

What if that person is me?

You’re too perfect.

I don’t deserve you.

I’m insecure.

I’m but a lost child in a big world, I do not know the way, I don’t know if I even want to know the way or if I just want to stay lost.

You’re too perfect.

I don’t deserve you.

I trust you, but I’m constantly afraid. I live in fear you’ll find someone better, I live in fear I’ll say the wrong thing, do the wrong thing, I live in fear you’ll one day look at me and there won’t be love in your eyes, but pity.

Pity me, my love.

Pity the lost girl.

Pity the girl who loves too much, feels too much.

Pity me, my love.

Pity the girl you love today and say you’ll love tomorrow.

Pity the insecure little girl.

Pity me, my love.

But don’t.

Please don’t pity me.

Because pity isn’t love.

Love me, my love.

Love the lost girl.

Help her find her way.

Be her light.

Be her way.

Today, I lay awake once more, tears stain my cheeks. Am I crying? When you cry for so long, your face loses sense and you have to touch your cheeks and feel them wet beneath your fingertips to be sure. Yes, I’m crying.

I love you so much.

Too much.

And you love me so much.

Too much.

Or do you?

Am I crazy for feeling like I make you love me a little less everyday?

Maybe it’s because I love myself a little less everyday.

I love myself a little less, hate myself a little more.

Why am I like this?

Why can’t I just accept the fact that someone loves me?

Why can’t I?

Why?

You’re too perfect, my love.

I don’t deserve you.

I never will.

You’re too perfect.

I want you.

You want me.

I love you.

You love me.

I hate myself.

I hate the tears that fall for no reason.

I hate the girl that cries for you, I hate her because you don’t deserve these tears.

Because you have done nothing to deserve them.

All you did was loving me.

All you do is loving me.

Maybe that’s where you’ve wronged.

Because you’re too good.

You’re too perfect.

And I don’t deserve you.

I don’t deserve to be loved.

I definitely don’t deserve to be loved by you.

I’m a mess, I’m nothing, I’m no one. I’m a fake.

And your love…

My love, your love is so good.

Your love is perfect.

Your love is pure heroin.

Opium.

Cocaine.

Ecstasy.

My love, your love is pure ecstasy.

It’s so good.

So addictive.

It makes me feel alive.

Before you, I was good, I was well.

But you came along and showed me love, true love.

And now I’m addict.

I’m a heroin addict because of you.

Because of you.

I don’t just want you anymore, I need you.

If I don’t get you everyday, I’ll die.

Can I get too much of you?

Can I overdose from your love?

Your love that I shouldn’t even be receiving, that I’m unworthy of having, can I overdose from it?

Maybe I already have.

Maybe I’m already dead.

If so, my love, keep on going.

Kill me dead.

Everyday I need more, more and more.

I need more of your love, I need more of you.

Again, I lay awake at night, thinking. Crying. Writing.

You.

You occupy my thoughts.

You became my biggest monster.

You became my only savior.

Come save me from my monsters, my love.

I know you can do it.

Because you’re so good.

Because you’re so perfect.

But I don’t deserve you.

I deserve to die at the hands of my monsters.

I don’t deserve the delightful death that would be a death by your love.

I know I don’t.

Then why do I want it so bad?

Am I that selfish that even knowing I don’t deserve you, I still want you?

I can’t let you go.

I won’t let you go.

You’re my heroin, I depend on you.

Save me, my love.

Save me from my monsters.

Save me from the fear of losing you.

Most of all, save me from myself.