buttercuprinoa

I've been struggling to make memories; Moments for everyone around me to keep. Not wanting to admit; That I'm this small, finite thing. Not this moment, To which no one will cling. I don't want to be unwanted, Alone, and forgotten. It's like being dirty; Pushed aside, unseen. Clawing at my skin; Breaking it, bleeding it. Desperate to crawl out of what I am, This aimless, empty, shell-like thing. I want to scream at people, That I am still here. But, I'm too afraid; They'll reject me...                                                                                                                             9-19-10  03:10