i wanted to tell you what was going on, but everything you've been doing to me lately shows me how much you won't even care or how you won't do anything to make me feel better. i was going to write you a letter trying to explain everything my best, i was going to ask you what you would do if i was put into hospital and if you would come and visit me. but i decided not to, because it would probably all turn around and be all about you again. you're probably one of the most self obsorbed, selfish assholes i've ever met. i always thought you were one of those people i could feel comfortable around. you've come over and seen me in my pyjamas more times than i can count. my make up fucked, hair not done and you still didn't make me feel like a dickhead. i always thought you were one of those people that would always be there when i needed them. you made me feel beatiful, you made me feel amazing. when you looked at me, you looked at me like i was your entire world. but thanks for fucking that all up for me. the thing were talking about this morning? you can go shove it up your ass because you've made me feel disgusting.

i sorta just want someone to ask ME what's wrong this time.

you piss me off nearly everytime i see you, when we're not arguing i'm most likely ignoring you. i love you so much but i also really hate you sometimes. but the little conversations we have late at night or the look you gave me or the tears that swole up in your eyes. "what made you know that mum was the one?" "that's actually a beautiful question."

last night i realised that i haven't properly cried in awhile. i thought that maybe if i did i would feel a little more relieved, like some of the craziness would be gone. but i couldn't, i squeezed out a few tears and i just couldn't. i thought to myself that maybe i should just hold it in because if i start letting myself collapse then it will become more regular and i don't want that.

"alot of people are told they aren't going to make it, but just do what you do best and live your life. live it for yourself, and really just fuck everybody else."

she say's it's all gonna end and it might aswell be my fault. and she only sleeps when it's raining, and she screams and her voice is straining. well i can't help but be scared of it all sometimes, the rain's gonna wash away i believe it. she's got a little bit of something, god it's better than nothing. in her colour portrait world she believes that she's got it all. she swears the moon don't hang quite as high as it used to and she only sleeps when it's raining, and she screams, and her voice is straining. she says, baby, it's three am i must be lonely. when she says baby, well i can't help but be scared of it all sometimes. the rain's going to wash away, i believe it. she believes that life is made up of all that you're used to and the clock has been stuck on three for days. she thinks that happiness is the mat that sits on her doorway. but outside it's stopped raining.

"so come with me where dreams are born, and time is never planned. just think of happy things, and your heart will fly on wings, forever, in neverland."