you are my nightmare

i wait a little while longer, green haired and fearful, your stupid face is etched in my skull. and I hate you. and I hate you. starting sentences with prepositions never got anyone anywhere. Behind locked doors I can do whatever I choose. I can't cry I really can't and i'm sick of punctuation, it's really something. I can't sit still but I don't know where the fuck I want to go or what I'm going to do with the rest of my life. I hate it. I hate this all so much. it's my hatred and honor and despair but goddamn it eats me alive. These are words. these are words all words and the worse it grows the bigger hole I dig for myself the grave to throw myself in, the maggots crawling into my orifices. don't you love it. isn't it precious. are. you. in. love. with. me? I don't know. I don't even want you to be because he will always be in the back of your mind, always always and I cry at night in my dreams because they will not surface and I am ultimately numb but you knew that and this is essentially the greatest run on sentence in creation. I am not you and you are not me but we should be one but we can't and he is the girl, the love, the one that you hold dear and obsess obsess there are so many esses and ems and all that is awful and i hallucinate because yes i still love you I will never quite be over you it was not long ago it was something of a dream and I hate it this is one big block and it will never stop it goes and goes and goes and I can' say hello because i'm terrified. there is only you.