On the Outside, Looking In.

To me, you were many bright sunny days. So tell me, why do I miss you when it's raining.
I take pills and remind myself of the horrors I've already lived.
It has been raining, continuously; it's cold and empty. A revelation bestowed, my love for rain has diminished, like winter fog that clears at midday.
You don't love me. Don't be fooled by your own thought, I don't love you either.

You'll never see the hidden truth, you'll always believe the facade you see. If only you would will to see behind it, would it matter to you, at all?
Insanity overwhelms, and this two centimeter, white object will help through another nocturnal night.
Have I not become, what we both despised? A misery thriving adolescent, another attention craving madman. Do you see what your absence has done?
Talking to the moonlight and it only shines it's perfect stillness, like the plastic doll smile, repulsively fake.
Truth is.
Light blinds you, like a meaningful song pricking holes into your heart, being left deaf to the world around you.
In numbness you gaze, tears trickle, lacking heart beat of yours tells you, that this is what you are; sad and lonely.
And you'll die without knowing, if you were ever really loved.