i'm deleting all of my old entries and i don't care what they mean to me

i don't know a fucking thing.
with lighters set flames to these petals until all but the center
dissolves into the soil. i am what is left..diffident and insecure.
termites that fine dine on organs and heartache
take your mind off of a throbbing pulse, bewildered bruises..scars
scarred over over time.
or you could be like me with an awful nail gun memory
and not in the sense that i am amnesic
this barrel is simply filled with a shitty supply of rust
my brain shouldn't suffer the aged damage
unbeknownst, it hurts twice as much

she's talking to me like a child
urges me to dig my nails into my cheeks and drag
and
drag
and
drag
and
drag
aaaaand draaaaaaaaaaaaaaagdragdragdrag
i waste your time in a way that appears meaningful for a while
a while has actually lasted longer than i thought it would
but time is up..push out and push forth
new doors & new floors
but never new serenity
i cut myself open to taste the oxygen differently and i never bled
patch me up in colored clatter, i'm a frame of the same face i was when
i was born. except i have gotten worse and you know that. you know it
for a fact i am a definition in your writing..a published piece that you
would love for a little bit. until smething better comes along to suit
you well and play your roles and hate you more than you hate yourself
but if they don't speak, what harm could that do?
you're not used to me
i pinpoint and rip apart
i am a void in the eye of a storm that you've never acknowledge
even i don't know what i mean

and this boy i know keeps me sane. and i don't know the first thing
about me..but i'd like to hold his hand until we get sick of each other