locusts.

'all of us. we're all ghosts. we're all trapped on the material plane.'

wasted laughter wasted time.

and none of it was real. most of this was what you wanted. your illusion. your deluded perception of how people behave. your heart beats slow because it is hollow. there is nothing pumping inside. no reason to hurry. and its not your fault. it wasn't you who emptied it. its like your heart ran away and left its empty shell like one of those locusts that leaves it empty body everywhere. your shell is capable of love but only at a distance. and only for those who need you. i never needed you. so how could you fit me into your hollow shell. what you need to find is your blood. your beating pumping heart that has a reason to speed. your vulnerable breakable stabbable heart. and you need to be afraid of it. and appreciate that it can be broken. because it is real. its no shell that you left behind.

its what has to feel your mother and your sister. and these people you call your friends. people who hurt you .. and can hurt you. people who took pieces from you and chipped away at you. you see.. 'its not so much sad as it is real'. you see ..things that are real are sad. and they are complicated. but they are real and you can touch them. even when it hurts. these alternate realities you create are not real. and no one will ever be able to touch them. making you impossible to reach. making you impossible to hold. and impossible to love. but i applaud myself for trying. and although no part of me thats still attached wants to be near you..

like i said before. my heart is with you. i gave it away when i met you and its not ready to come home. so consider it my gift. and feel free to borrow my blood if your shell needs a rush.