and i'll never have enough words to say. i'll write them down or keep them in but my thoughts are still at bay. they think the alcohol is the cause of the stress but without it, it's the same; i'm still a mess and i'm sick and i'm fucking tired and i'm rolling in bed because i live with the fact that i'm a liar not because i am honest and the world is against me because if that was the case i'd probably already have given in but it's so much simpler when i've mistaken every insecurity as an attempt to kill me so what will cure me? so what will cure my apparent fears? will it be a constant unattainable dream or will be that i'll just burst at the seams? i just think i've got a case of a life being overrun by how i imagined things would be i didn't think i'd be attached to someone even more than my family and i don't think this will be enough to emphasise the empathy i put into all of my trust.
so tell me that you'll stick around even if you're not in love. even if my hands lose feeling, just tell me that you'll still hold me close by your side and even if i go blind in both of my eyes just tell me that you'll never, never look through me.