Anxious and Alone

She was a tattoo. Close and inseparable from your body. You can try and remove her from your body but she will scar. When the scsrs heal there will still be pictures. When the pictures are burned there will still be the friends who saw the pictures. When your friends stop asking what happened there will still be the lingering thought. The memories won't fade. They were there and you know they were real. Nothing I can do. Nothing I can say. Nothing will make what you had with her change. Because I am your new tattoo. How long will I be there? How long will I look good enough for you to show me off? Years? Months? Days? How long until I am just a faded memory? I am just a tattoo, just like she..was a tattoo. I am your tattoo girl.

I'm sorry I ever thought that you would choose me. I'm sorry that I ever pictured that someone would care enough about me that I would become their everything. I'm sorry I forget you have other people. That I am but a single speck in your life. No matter how much I take up, there will always be others that take up more than me. I am never your everything. You don't believe in making someone your everything. Everyone gets a piece of you. I'm sorry that sometimes I forget you have others you can trust. Others you care about. Others that care about you. Sometimes I like to think that I can give my everything to someone and they will give me the same. I forget that what I have to give isn't worth much. That what I have is everything I can give because, no one has been there long enough to have my pieces. Unlike your scattered love, that everyone gets a chance to enjoy, I have my single and whole piece. My piece is everything I have, and no one wants my piece. My broken, destroyed, and ugly piece.This single piece that haunts me. I got hurt and my piece got broken. There was no one there for me so I could give them a piece. I carried my pieces as a whole, because no one wanted to take my pieces so that when I was hurt they would have some of me that could be put together to fix the parts that were broken. In the end I am truley and utterly alone. In the end you have them and I only have me. In the end, I was never worth your pieces.

Please understand. When we started talking I just got out of a bad relationship. I thought we were doing good and fixing things, but I was wrong. I have the worst confidence that you will ever see in a person. Paranoid and anxious when it comes to any thing I say and do, the trust of an undercover agent, sensitive, never good enough for anyone, but in the end we can both do this together. No one said things were gonna be easy, I mean come on, god doesn't play on our team. Hell, he isn't even playing the same game as us, but we still have each other, and we've made it through so many shitty things. We will keep making it through those things because that's what we do. When things get tough, get tougher. We don't wimp out and find something easier, if you're not on the edge you're taking up too much space. Right now I'd say we're pretty close to the edge of the cliff, and hey, we might have to jump, and yea, we might be a little afraid of heights, but in the end, we might realize that the ground wasn't as far as we thought it was.