It's you, just you.

Broken, it’s effortless- beyond the hope of recognition, beyond the scope of comprehension. You take it and it gives. You break it and it bends, and still takes shape, and still makes waste. And if all this was left up to you, you would walk away forever. You would never return. This feeling of hopeful asperation, it remains in the corner of a soul that is loved, and you don’t even have that. You can’t even see past the past. It is ever before you. Always following, reminding, tripping you up.

And if this is what you dreamed of being when you were young, then you dreamed too small.

You didn’t challenge the rules like you said you would. You didn’t make fake the towers of conceit, the lies that defeat, the place of unbroken hate.
You claim.
You claim.
You lie.
You lie.
But this has been put in place and still you aren’t sure you believe it, and still you wish you were stronger, but you are not. You are a face that sheds tears unseen, that turns away from friendship because you are too afraid to lend yourself to something that isn’t you, because you can’t be sure of keeping it whole. It depends too much on them. You can’t see past yourself, you refuse to let people help, you can’t answer all the questions or didn’t you know that? You can’t save face this time. They can see right through you. They told you last night. Instead of change, you decided to hide even further away. You will remain here in this place. And you will be forgotten, because you can’t be remembered for something you weren’t. You can’t be sheltered from all hurt, but you try your damnest. And you fight the thing that gives you life. You defeat yourself. You do it, no one else. No blaming anyone. It’s you, just you.