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Description
Need echoes through me. Hollow. Alone. I don't know if I'm describing myself, or my world.

I wonder
--Was each promise a lie?
I thought I was the liar
--I can't trust you as far as I can throw you.
Turns out?
I was telling the truth.

--I love you.
Echoes.
Silence.

I wonder
--Did you ever? Why don't you now?

I need. I just need. Nothing. Everything. Yes, only everything.

Just love me. Perfect my existence. I can perfect yours. Ask me for everything, and it will be yours. I will do or be anything and everything for you. I'll be at your command or steal your soul. I'll be your whore or your virgin. Tie me up, or hand me the reins. Love me. Lust for me. Just look at me, and let me see you.

You're my first. My first who's loved me for me. I've been loved despite being crazy. I've been loved, until they found out I was crazy. Until some part of me slipped out that they'd never seen before. That didn't make sense with the idealized version of a person that love creates. But you're the first; the first to love me because I'm crazy. Because I'm crazy.

That's all I want. To be loved for myself.

But I don't think you love me anymore. Because when I say
--I love you
You don't respond. And I don't want you to lie to me. I just wish you never had. I hope you never did.

But if you weren't lying, what stopped? And if you were, why did you stop when you did?

You know what I hate more than my own voice? The echo.

Description
Need echoes through me. Hollow. Alone. I don't know if I'm describing myself, or my world.

I wonder
--Was each promise a lie?
I thought I was the liar
--I can't trust you as far as I can throw you.
Turns out?
I was telling the truth.

--I love you.
Echoes.
Silence.

I wonder
--Did you ever? Why don't you now?

I need. I just need. Nothing. Everything. Yes, only everything.

Just love me. Perfect my existence. I can perfect yours. Ask me for everything, and it will be yours. I will do or be anything and everything for you. I'll be at your command or steal your soul. I'll be your whore or your virgin. Tie me up, or hand me the reins. Love me. Lust for me. Just look at me, and let me see you.

You're my first. My first who's loved me for me. I've been loved despite being crazy. I've been loved, until they found out I was crazy. Until some part of me slipped out that they'd never seen before. That didn't make sense with the idealized version of a person that love creates. But you're the first; the first to love me because I'm crazy. Because I'm crazy.

That's all I want. To be loved for myself.

But I don't think you love me anymore. Because when I say
--I love you
You don't respond. And I don't want you to lie to me. I just wish you never had. I hope you never did.

But if you weren't lying, what stopped? And if you were, why did you stop when you did?

You know what I hate more than my own voice? The echo.