Saturday, April 17, 2010

The Neurotransmission Malfunction

Our journey is a lie. I can not seem to point why I believe that you are deceiving me and how everything you say pierces my chest. I want the truth now because I can not seem to find the courage to tell you anything.


  1. If you feel that I can deceive you, yes I can and I have.

  2. I have strung you along this far. I want you to tell me how much you need me, but the truth is: you don't.

    The more you let me linger, the harder it is for me to let go of you.
    But I'm afraid that you'll let go of me.
    I will use every type of persuasion to make myself seem more intricate and divine, when all I truly have are banal facts of my life.
    Here is my home. I don't wash dishes. All of the longer books on my shelf haven't been read thoroughly enough, just skimmed through. This is the cologne I use to hide my natural smell.

    It is all to impress you and even to feed my ego. Time and time again, the facade will be even less sweet to deliver when I find someone on the receving end. Their reaction. The unresponsiveness.
    You have me paralyzed. You are my catalyst.